Masked Affection
by tthalia
Summary: He seemed so cold, so emotionless; his only expression being wrath. She was warm, loving, with a soul soaked in compassionate wit. Unfortunately, his analytic bite and her nevergiveup attitude bound them together with nothing but masked affection... T
1. Chapter One

A/N: Writer's 1st Story :D I'm so exciteddd -- my first full length. quick disclaimage, I don't plan on typing the words "don't own" every chapter because my fingers will eventually bore so once and for all (let's make it formal and underline)...  
DON'T OWN ANYTHING BUT THE PLOT. kthnx. :)

enjoyy!

**CHAPTER ONE**

A gasping breath suddenly released itself from her pursed lips. She let her eyes wander around the illuminated office. It was filled with people and mini-televisions that seemed to monitor the world outside of the large, red office.

A woman clad in business-like attire welcomed her to East High School with a hug, leading her out of the sheltered office she had come to, in only ten minutes, love. The woman walked her down the long, white hallway, relinquishing her in what seemed to be her new home room. There, another woman with blonde hair and perfectly rounded glasses rose from her seat, that was situated above the rest of the room on a miniature stage.

She smiled warmly and openly, quickly introducing herself as Mrs. Darbus.

"Gabriella, Gabriella Montez." she replied, holding out her hand.

Very few words were exchanged, only giving Mrs. Darbus enough time to explain where all of Gabriella's classes were. She briskly handed her a map and then excused herself from the room.

Unsure of what to do, Gabriella picked a seat at random and sat down. Glancing up at the clock, hands pointing at seven and eight, she sighed. According to her schedule, home room didn't begin until eight o' clock and right now it was only seven-forty.

She heard the screams and laughter of her newly founded classmates coming from the hallway. Sighing once again, she pulled out her schedule and attempted to memorize it.

Meanwhile, the laughter and giddiness outside in the hallway was being carried on by a group of girls surrounding one of East High's best, and cruelest. They continued on, batting eyelashes and giggling foolishly, leaving their bombarded victim disgusted and completely unphased.

He simply rolled his eyes and grabbed his books swiftly out of his locker, pushing each and every ridiculous girl out of his way. Swinging his brown locks from his eyes, he rammed into a boy much shorter than his statue.

"Move." he mustered, "Watch where your going." he stated cooly, looking harshly into the student's frightened eyes. The boy nodded immediately and scampered off into the crowd.

He would never admit to it, but deep-down inside he hated that. The way students dropped at his feet, hailing his very presence. It disgusted him at how commiserable his peers could be. Had they no self-respect or dignity? Their actions and procedures stroked him with anger. He treated them just as he would treat a goldfish. Yet they dismissed his actions and praised him nonetheless.

Leaving him to enjoy his authority and sulk in his pride, full-filling his egotistic rule.

Though somewhere inside his conceited heart, was a boy who yearned for someone to stand up to him; call him out on his ruthless actions and absurd behavior. He craved confrontation, for someone to hold up their end of an argument, their end of a fight. Nevertheless, he knew that day would never come. No one had the guts to point out his wrong doings. They were all too busy trying their best to please him and his every need.

And he was still unsure if he was alright with that or not.

"Well Troy, you've definitely got the freshman population wrapped around your finger." a boy standing next to him said freshly, nodding. His brown, curly hair bobbing with the sudden motion.

"Chad, please. I've got more than the freshman population." he claimed, rather sure of himself. "C'mon." He clutched his books and rammed through the crowd. Muffling 'Move.' and 'Get out of my way.' every so often. Around him girls smiled libidinously and dramatically fainted whenever he looked their way.

Walking into his home room, girls trailing behind, he stopped abruptly, forcing the group following behind to push against him. A blonde girl, dressed considerably colorfully, gasped loudly, her books falling to the ground.

"She's in his seat." she mumbled.

"Quiet, Sharpay." Chad quickly stated, looking towards his friend. "He's gonna blow."

"Poor girl." someone muttered.

Troy tossed his books to the corner nonchalantly, sternly approaching the girl in his self-designated seat. He looked her over, up and down. Her head was directed to the window, away from the students that had surrounded themselves around her. Unaware of the situation she turned towards the seemingly angry boy advancing in her direction.

Giving himself time to take in her appearance, he came to the realization that he had never seen her before. He knew he would've remembered a girl that attractive, a girl that beautiful. Her highly emphasized cheekbones, big brown eyes, and perfectly curled hair – all things he knew he would've remembered.

He grabbed a chair and swung it over next to her, sitting down to her level. All the while she stared at him, consumed with utter bewilderment.

After moments of an unofficial staring contest, she spoke up.

"Can I help you?" she asked, noticing his blue eyes glazed with anger.

"You're sitting in my seat, get out." he ordered.

"No. Find another one, there's twenty-plus around you. Pick one of them." she said, returning back to her previous position to gaze out the window.

He grabbed her chin and turned her face towards his. A harsh yet ruthless look appearing on his face. She opened her mouth to speak but he was quick to cover it with his hand.

"I'm assuming your new here, so I'll let it slide..." Her eyebrows raised in enjoyment. "_this _time. But here's the deal, you never, under any circumstances, sit in this seat. And smart comments like that one, don't do it again. I tell _you _what to do, not the other way around."

Without warning, she bursted out laughing; whipping her head out of his grasp. She quickly stood up, almost knocking him out of his chair. Her sudden amusement with his order caught him strictly off guard, though strangely he liked it. He too stood up. As he did so, she grabbed his chin with her hand, pulling it closely to her face. Holding strong eye contact, she spat out, "Have it." She released her grip, swinging his head to the side.

Grabbing her bag and walking four seats over, she received dumbfounded looks from everyone around her.

_So much for making new friends_, she thought to herself.

Mrs. Darbus pacingly ushered into the room, scattering the dazed students to their seats. Within minutes, the bell rang and everyone rushed off to first period. Gabriella being one of them.

Heading out of the classroom, she checked her schedule once more.

"English." she said to herself, turning in another direction in search of room two seventy-five. Her unexpected movement caused her newly established enemy to bump into her, knocking the bag off of her shoulder.

"Watch where you going." he snapped.

"News flash!" Her tone rising with each word, "You ran into me." The students around her noticed the new conflict, knowing his temper they hurried off to class.

"You better watch it next time." he yelled, heading off to his class.

"Oh yeah, I'll be sure to do that." she muttered sarcastically to no one in particular. Bending over to pick up her bag she saw two hands pick it up for her. "Thank you."

"No problem. Gabriella, isn't it?" the girl said, smiling cheerfully. Her skin a beautiful chocolate color. Gabriella nodded in response, returning the courteous smile. "I'm Taylor."

"It's nice to meet you, Taylor." She held out her hand for Taylor to shake. "After the whole incident in home room, I didn't think anyone would talk to me." Gabriella said with a laugh.

"Ah, yes. An incident it was. No one has ever been known to do what you did. Most _teachers _don't even have what it takes to stand up to Troy Bolton." Taylor replied, nodding.

"What's the deal with him?" Gabriella asked.

"Who? Troy?" she grimaced, walking down the hallway with Gabriella following by her side. "He practically rules the school. Well, no. Not practically, he does rule it. Everyone falls at his feet, girls black out at his very presence. His dad is the center coach of the basketball team, which he's the highlight of. I guess that all just adds to his ego."

"Oh wow, that bad, eh?" Gabriella said, looking above each doorway they passed. "Can you show me where two seventy-five is?"

"Sure, I'm going there myself."

The next six periods were rather boring for Gabriella's liking. Each class only re-covered information she had learned in previous years at her old schools. The only good thing about her classes was that Taylor was in each and every one of them. It was easier for Gabriella to get through her classes haveing someone to talk to, especially someone she had so much in common with.

It was seventh-period lunch and she was headed to Taylor's table when she heard someone yelling from behind her. Sitting her tray down on the table, she turned around only to see her newly established enemy.

"You!" he yelled from his table, pointing in her direction. His voice silenced the whole cafeteria. "Come here."

"First of all, it's not nice to point." she answered, resting her hand softly on her hip. "And second of all, you want me, you come here. I'm not a dog." she shouted back, with as much authority as he. She sat down at the table and introduced herself to the people around her. Gasps filled the air, echoing from table to table. The same thing was being said everywhere she looked, 'She's the new girl that back-talked Troy Bolton.'

Simultaneously, across the cafeteria at Troy's table, the only discussion presented was one surrounding Gabriella. "See what I'm saying?" he snarled, glaring in her direction. "She's..." he trailed off, thinking of the best adjective to describe the disobedient beauty._ Perfect_, he thought. "Oh shit, snap out of it, Bolton." he muttered inaudibly to himself. "Jason!" he shouted, directing his full attention to the boy sitting across form him. Jason's eyes perked up from his bologna sandwich. "I want to know everything you can find out about that girl."

"Her name's Gabriella." Jason replied, nodding in command.

"That's a start. But I need more." he emitted, standing up from his table and walking away, slamming the cafeteria doors behind him.

As the day came to an end, Gabriella was pleased with how it all had turned out. She accomplished her first goal – friends. She had definitely made more friends than at any of her other schools. She had gotten invited to a party, and been asked out all in one period. Although she turned down the date, she gladly accepted the party invitation. Everything that had happened earlier, with East High's self-proclaimed God, was pushed to the back of her mind.

The last bell had rung almost an hour ago, but Gabriella decided on giving herself a tour of the school. There was no one around, but a teacher or two, making it the perfect time for her to find her way around the building. It was so big and spacious, she was positive, without Taylor's guidance, she would certainly get lost. Walking out of the Auditorium, she took a quick glance at the large clock hanging above the stage.

"Four fifteen?" she murmured under her breath. "Mom's going to kill me!" She was sure of it. Her mother had taken a day off from her highly anticipated international book-tour to spend the rest of the day after school with her. She sighed, scurrying to grab her things.

Slamming her locker shut, she decided on taking a shortcut through the gym. The only place she had steered clear of, positive of the fact that the basketball team was in practice. She carried herself down the hallway, positioning outside of the gym door when she saw someone still inside. No, not just someone... Troy.

He dribbled the ball vigorously, scoring with every attempt he made. Wanting immensely to avoid confrontation she changed directions, heading for the main doors. But as she walked away, her foot caught the door, slamming it shut.

"Dammit." she blurted, hurriedly walking down the halls.

However inside the gym, it was impossible not to notice the door banging closed. Troy dropped the ball and ran out of the court, curious as to who was out there.

Wandering through the halls, he heard the main door open. As he peered around the corner he saw her walking out of the school. Her small petite figure and gorgeous dark hair made his eyes blink rapidly. Surely he had seen beautiful girls before, but never one like her.

"You!" she heard coming from behind her. "Stop!" he ordered, running towards her.

She winced, knowing exactly who it was, and ignored his every command. Though her attempts to escape his uncanny wrath failed as he reached her, grabbing her arm.

"You deaf?" he questioned.

"No, just late." was his reply.

"Gabriella Montez, right?" he said, completely emotionless still grasping her small forearm.

"Jackass Bolton, isn't it?" she said, just as rudely.

He didn't laugh or show any sign that an actual human being remained inside of him, he only loosened his grip on her arm.

"Hey, you were the one watching me." he barked, staring into her eyes. Big, brown, doughy eyes, surrounded with long dark eyelashes.

"I wasn't watching you."

"Alright, staring. You were the one staring at me."

"No, son, staring is what you were doing at lunch. Remember? You were gawking at my table. Now _that_, my dear, is staring. And besides, I was not staring at you. I was going to take a shortcut through the gym, but saw you and was so utterly repulsed I changed my mind." she groaned, pulling her hand out of his grasp and heading towards her car.

"Where are you going?" he asked, though rather more demanded as he reached for her arm once more, stopping her from going any further.

She turned around, eyes glazed over with annoyance. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she said, marching back towards her car.

"I'll be seeing you around." he declared, making it seem more has a commandment than a statement.

"Not if I can help it." she yelled back, facing him for only a second.


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Read & review...

**CHAPTER TWO**

From the minute he woke up that morning, he knew it wasn't destined to be a good day. As soon as he got into the shower, he knew immediately that luck was not on his side.

His hot water ran out which forced him to take a freezing cold shower. He burnt his English paper in the toaster and wasn't even sure how it happened. He closed his right hand in his car door and accidently ran over a squirrel on the way to school.

As he finally reached the big red doors of East High and slugged angrily inside, he persisted in bumping into people like he never had before. Knocking their bodies to the floor, their books scattering to the ground. Upon reaching his locker, he bashed it closed and walked to his home room. This morning he had no desire to converse with narcissistic girls, and on his way to Mrs. Darbus' room he made that clear to everyone around him.

When the girls that seemed to wait for him every morning suddenly appeared out of nowhere, he made no subtleties when letting his temper get the best of him.

"Get the hell out of my face!" he snarled, menacingly as he swept past a boy he recognized from the Junior basketball team. Dismissing any other thoughts that flew into his mind, he grabbed the boy by the collar and brought him face-to-face. "Kyle, isn't it?" The boy nodded feebly and Troy continued, "I don't want to see another girl so much as breathing on me for the rest of the day." he shouted, making sure everyone – not just the boy before him – heard what he had to say. Kyle didn't move, causing the anger to rage up inside of Troy. "Well?" he growled.

"You heard the man! Don't come near him!" Kyle bellowed, weakly but definitely loud enough for every person in the hall to hear. That is, with the exception of one single person.

Troy let his grasp of the boy's collar relinquish as he pounced into home room.

When the bell indicating seventh-period blared loudly through the halls, Troy couldn't help but notice that he hadn't seen Gabriella all day, not even in home room. Figuring it was because she had heard his order this morning and decided on staying away, he shrugged it off. All the while knowing she was not one to obey his dictations, he opted in skipping lunch.

He wasn't hungry, and even if he was, he only had fifty cents in his pocket.

Pacing through the empty hallways, he briskfully carried himself around the school, disappearing every so often into a classroom. Unsure of what to do with his newly acquired free time, he decided on heading to the gym.

_Might as well get in some practice_, he thought.

Multing down the course leading to the gymnasium, he found himself taking the long way, to wander through the school.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bolton." He heard someone say hushly from behind him.

"Yeah?" he replied, turning around. Amusement crossed his eyes as a malicious smirk toyed his lips.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" the teacher asked, approaching him quickly.

"Probably, yeah. But I'm bored with it. Why sit in an uninteresting class when you can roam the school?" he said, slyly. Eyeing the teacher devilishly, she only nodded and went on her way.

Pleased with his triumphant dismiss of a teacher, he decided on rewarding himself with a piece of gum.

Pulling the fifty cents from his pocket, he shoved a quarter into the slot of a nearby vending machine. As he waited, rather impatiently, for his gum, nothing appeared. Letting a combination of his anger and frustration to release itself, he took a reckless punch at the glass amd watched it shatter to the floor, inspecting the merchandise inside.

Disposing his want for a juicy stick of gum, he walked away from the vending machine. Leaving the broken glass and easily accessible commodities behind.

"Smart move, there. Take your anger out on the defenseless vending machine. What? You can't handle something that fights back?" she said, appearing out of no where.

"Get out of my way, whore." he hissed, pushing her to the side.

"You know damn well it's Gabriella, asshole." she snarled back, with the same amount of control.

"I don't have time to hear you bitch."

She didn't even get the chance to insult him before he pinned her up against the lockers. His strong hands effortlessly holding her arms, driving her into the solid surface.

Rolling her eyes, she merely looked away trying her best to ignore his presence upon her. Then she unexpectedly felt his hand bringing her face to look at his. As much as she wanted to fight back and exert herself from his tight though gentle grasp, she couldn't. For the first time she found herself frozen at his touch. Alluring chills shook down her spine as she realized how close his face was to her own.

Allowing herself to take in his appearance, she let her eyes drift over his facial features.

Magnetic blue eyes that seemed to suck her in like a black hole.

Firm barely noticeable yet breath taking cheekbones.

A perfectly sculpted jaw that somehow distinguished his enticing lips. She mentally cursed herself for wanting so badly to kiss him.

She took in a deep breath, absorbing his specific masculine scent.

His brown hair slid into his eyes, but he was quick to swing it out of his face in one swift movement. As he did so, she found herself remotely sweating. Not only was she frozen solid by his touch but she was completely turned on by his every movement.

"Didn't you get the announcement?" he grumbled bitterly.

His voice snapped her back to reality like a giant rubber band.

"Sorry, my secretary has the flu. Feebleminded twit. She's _so _getting fired. " she berated sarcastically. "What announcement is this?"

"Never mind." he grunted, his face closing in on hers.

_Don't kiss him, do not kiss him_, she yelled internally to herself. It took every ounce of strength she had to resist the temptation to touch his lips with hers. _It's official. I'm going to Hell_, she thought.

"You're despicable." she stated, softly with less feeling and authorization.

"Whoa, getting insults from a duck." he said, his voice losing it's anger. The usual amused tone to his expression quickly rushed back.

"Oh my God, Troy Bolton has a sarcastic side?" Gabriella hacked in, biting her bottom lip subtly.

He didn't reply. He wanted to, but something inside of him couldn't.

His eyes wandered over her appearance, his face pulling away from hers to analyze her demeanor. He eyed every inch of her dainty figure.

Her waist was tiny, and he was almost positive he could fit his whole hand around it. She was definitely a small, petite girl. But being as diminutive as she was, her breasts were rather large.

He suppressed a chuckle at his thoughts, moving his gaze to her face.

Her lovely, soft skin and beautiful eyes. The scent of her lip gloss drifted to his nasal cavities as he took in the aroma of strawberry-kiwi. Absorbing more of her distinctive scent, she smelled sweet, like a mixture of vanilla and caramel.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, with less anger and rage.

His question caught her completely off guard. Though she knew the answer was 'no' and so did he, she still couldn't find it in herself to answer.

"Do _you _have a boyfriend?" she finally questioned after a long out drawn silence.

"Are you insinuating that I'm gay?" he interrogated, his eyebrows ruffling.

"Was I?"

He goggled over her for another minute or so, then pushed off of her arms.

Finding herself suddenly free from Troy's tight grasp, the acerbity that had rumbled up inside of her erupted. She wasn't mad at him for pinning her against the wall. In fact, even though she would deny it, she adored every second of it.

But, no. She was definitely not mad at him. She was agitated at herself for not fighting back, for not taking a stand, for going weak like a gooey chocolate chip cookie.

As the uncontrollable wrath inside of her backfired, she slapped him harshly across the face.

And before she permitted herself to let her actions soak in or let his wrath win over, Gabriella traipsed off. Infuriated with no one but herself.


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: This is kind of a two-part chapter so I'll try and update a little faster than usual.

**CHAPTER THREE**

Night speedily turned to day as Gabriella woke up to the buzzing annoyance of her alarm clock. She slammed it down with more strength than intended and rolled over. Seemingly mesmerized by the interior design of her bedroom ceiling, an obvious reality shot at her like a bullet.

She had to get up.

Groaning and rolling over once more, she hopped out of bed and hurriedly got ready for school.

The instant she walked through the giant doors of East High School, she was greeted feverishly by dozens of cheerleaders and excited students. Banners were hung, and balloons were flying. The school mascot was jumping joyously around the halls, stirring up excitement. Everyone was clad in their East High, red and white, attire.

_Everyone_.

From the Science Geeks to the Punks, everyone was dressed entirely in red and white.

School spirit and exasperating enthusiasm filled the air like a potent tear gas. From the classrooms to the hallways, no where could she escape the exuberance that was East High.

"Gabriella!" She heard a familiar voice call, turning around to see a bright and cheerful Taylor. They said their greetings and Gabriella was quick to ask her heading question.

"Why's everyone, and their grandmother, dressed..." she stopped pointing to a student, face painted half and half. Red on one side and white on the other. His clothes consisted of red pants rolled up to his knees, revealing white tube socks with 'EAST HIGH WILDCATS' written down the sides. On his shirt was a picture of none other than Troy, the background being the rest of, what Gabriella presumed to be, the basketball team. "...that?" she finally finished, utter confusion ringing her face.

"It's spirit week! The basketball championships are next Friday!" Taylor cheered in an idiotic 'duh' tone, she herself fully spiritually dressed. Gabriella reeled in aw when she realized that her closest friend at her new school could be just as crazy as the rest of the students.

"If the game's next Friday, and today's only Wednesday then why is all of this," She quickly motioned to everything around her, banners, bands, and balloons. "...necessary?"

Taylor didn't answer for quite some time, obviously taking Gabriella's question into thought. Then after minutes of suple pausing, she spoke. "Honestly, I don't know. But it's a blast!"

Gabriella mouthed a simple 'oh' and headed off to her locker.

She made her way, moving slowly through the crowd, cautious not to bump into anyone. She reached her locker only to find it surrounded by a circle of boys, hoisting up a normally dressed Troy Bolton.

"Egotistic fool thinks he's God." she muttered to herself, pushing them out of the way.

Luckily for Gabriella, the day went by rather quickly. The only remotely terrible incident being a screaming argument with Troy. By the time a teacher had ordered them to stop, both Troy and Gabriella had forgotten what had started the argument in the first place.

But just as Gabriella was leaving her ninth-period class, enthused because she had a free period next, two muscular hands grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into a nearby storage closet. It had all happened so fast, she was dubious to who had grabbed her. Just as she was about to scream for her life, a herculean hand covered her mouth.

"Don't scream." he whispered, and with that she was well aware of who had dragged her into the closet.

Her eyes were shut tight as she bit his hand with as much strength as her jaw possessed. He winced out in pain, though not letting go of his grip. Without another thought, she kneed him square between his legs, forcing him to collapse to the ground.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she examined, looking down at him.

After a few seconds the pain succeeded and he stood up, slowly.

"Feisty bitch, aren't you?" he questioned, raising one eyebrow above the other. "You're just full of surprises, and I don't like that." he said untruthfully.

"What do you want?"

"You know, if you were a guy, not some stubborn halfwit, I would have had you suffocating on your nuts ten minutes ago." he announced, fixing his eyes on hers.

"Oh, get over yourself, will you? You're nothing great. And how you have this entire school applauding your every breath, I will honestly never understand." she affirmed, her face scrunching as she gleamed into his brilliant blue eyes. She would never disclose it, but he did have amazing eyes. Amazingly expressive eyes that somehow said everything he didn't want to. Like a treasure chest where he hid all of his deepest, darkest secrets.

"You've got some serious balls, Miss Montez." he voiced, her eyes widening at his expression. "There's not a person, within a ten-thousand mile radius, that would say the things you have– especially to me."

She stood on the very tips of her toes, almost reaching his level, though he still had a good four inches on her, and squinted her eyes with anger. "You don't scare me, Troy. And just so you know, that is the second time in less than a minute that you have made a reference to the male genitals." she declared, pushing him to the side and flinging the closet door open. As she began to walk away, he poked his head around the corner of the door watching her. Then suddenly she stopped, and without turning around she smiled to herself, "It's rude to stare. Or rather, in your case, _gawk_."

Further down the hallway, something came to her.

_What did he want?_

When she turned around to ask him, he was no longer in sight. A sigh of relief or disappointment, she wasn't quite sure which it was, escaped her breath as she dashed off to the library.

It only took her a short twenty-three minutes to finish her geometry homework. And favorably for Gabriella, it was her only homework. She packed up her books and looked at the clock. Realizing she had more time than needed to go to her locker and put away her things, she sighed wondering what she was going to do with her extra time.

She quickly flung her books into her locker, not bothering to grab her bag. Her reasoning being that she would stop by her locker on the way to her car. She shut the long, metal door and turned around, looking down both ends of the hallway.

Boredom certainly was not her forté and she had no plans on doing 'nothing.' No matter what it was, or where it was at; she could always find something to do. Never once had she let herself succumb to the emptiness that was boredom.

Deciding on another exploration of the school, she headed off to the left of her locker, in dire search of something stimulating. She read the signs on every door she passed. Then, she came across one that seemed worth-while and interesting.

_Outdoor Science Lab_ was what the sign read.

Absentmindedly, she spun the doorknob and swung the door open. Rather than lead straight to an alcove outside, the door widened broadly to a case of stairs that seemed to lead to another door. With her mind set on reaching this outdoor science lab, Gabriella bustled up the steps and opened the second door.

As it silently closed shut, she beamed around at what was before her.

Nothing but plants, trees, flowers, and exquisite butterflies. It was the picture perfect scene, straight out of a storybook or fairytale. Her fingers delicately traced over the banister that acted as the walls of the serene setting.

A smile enthused her lips as she continued on examining the ambiance around her.

Flowers that seemed to go on forever were scattered throughout the hidden school balcony. Never ending trees and plentiful spruce green bushes were placed sparingly about the floor. In the center of the informal greenhouse was a small two-seated wooden bench.

It was old, and rather dingy but fit perfectly with the outdoor feel.

She allowed herself to ensconce her small figure within the trees and plants, sitting daintily on the wooden bench. As her body met with the cold, scratchy wood, a feeling of serenity and satisfaction overcame her every thought. Letting her eyes analyze the environment surrounding her, she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Her mind seemed to drift off when she capitulated the amicable jungle. For the first time in as long as she could recall, she was happy. But it was suddenly cut short when she heard the door slam shut.

She jolted upward, and rushed to the door. Carrying herself down the steps and back out into the corridors of East High, disquisitve with who had come to her new roof-top sanctuary. She looked both ways but saw no one in view.

Though her eyes did wander to the clock that was perfectly fixed to the wall in front of her. She was astonished when she realized that she had been up there for almost an hour. She dispatched for her locker and pulled out her book bag. Stuffing every book, folder, and notebook inside of it, she flipped it over her shoulder and closed the door.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked as the door fastened securely revealing an amused Troy. One leg propped up against the locker and his arms crossed, a devious smirk ruptured from his lips. "What is it with you and scaring the living daylights out of me?" She groaned and directed herself to her car, disregarding the boy dawdling behind her. Although everything inside of her was begging to know what he wanted, she held her stance and continued on. He must've answered her question, she was almost positive of it, but she was so consumed with her thoughts she hadn't heard him.

"Don't you want to know why I'm following you?" Troy asked once they had reached the empty student parking lot.

"Not really." she lied, pulling out her keys.

He pulled her arm, dragging her in towards him to where she was barely three inches from his face. She found herself caught, like a fish on a hook. Her every impulse told her to go on to her car and ignore him, but she realized once again he had caught her in his cocky emplane of charm.

"You're going to tell me anyway, aren't you?" she asked, her eyes widening with curiosity.

"You bet your smart ass attitude, I am." he replied, releasing her from his grip.

"Look, I'd really love to stay around and listen to you complain about your sex life, but I really need to get home." she harped, inside knowing there was nothing to go home to but an empty house and left over pizza. She waited for a reply and carried forward to her car. Whence she shoved the key in the lock and opened the door, she found a persistent boy hopping into the passenger's seat.

"Sounds fun, I'll come too." he answered, closing the door.

"Alright, fine! I give. What do you want?" she asked, casting over to him, making sure she didn't look into his eyes. Knowing that if she did, there would be no getting out of his gaze and she'd be trapped for all of eternity.

"I'm going to get benched if I don't raise my geometry grade. I need a C average to stay on the team. They need me for the championship, Montez." he said, leaning against the head rest as a lying glaze set over the whites of his eyes.

"Bummer." she replied, completely uninterested. "What's any of that have to do with me?"

"I need a tutor."

"Oh, hell no! No way! No, no, no." she repeated.

"It will be quick and painless. I just need help with some of the equations." She sighed, her breath filled with interest. "C'mon, you'll be doing the entire school a favor." he enticed, secretly praying for her to say 'yes.' Not only because it would help him in the long run, but because it would mean spending hours out of school with her.

"Let me break it to you easily," she began, sarcasm leaking from her every word, "I'd rather stick forks in my eyes than spend an unnecessary hour with you."

"I'm not going away until you agree to at least think about it."

She sighed, "Okay, I'll think about it just to get you out of my car."

"Meet me tomorrow afternoon, in the gym. I've got basketball until four." he responded, rather sure she wouldn't show. _Just incase,_ he thought to himself as he exited her vehicle. Closing the door, he flashed her an impressive almost-smile that made her knees go weak and her heart drop down to her stomach.

"I don't like him. No way, no how." she confirmed, biting her lip as she drove off.


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: what can you expect from the chapters ahead? how about lots of rain, a shower or two, and maybe a party _winkwink _Satisfied, Mari? :D

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The entire night turned out to be restless for both Troy and Gabriella. And upon waking up the next morning, both teenagers were worn out and utterly exhausted. Their thoughts being the complete opposites. Troy wondered if she would show, figuring under his best judgement that she wouldn't. As to Gabriella who wanted so badly to go but repulsed herself when she came to the conclusion that she may have fallen for the likes of one terribly bad yet full-heartedly charming Troy Bolton.

"Oh, no. You do not like him. He's a disgusting pig who wants nothing more than another girl to drop down at his feet. No. That will not be me." she stated, unconvincingly into her bathroom mirror.

Later that morning, Troy stormed into East High, clearly in a better mood. He scooted down the hallways, shooting killer smirks to every girl that looked his way. Before the tardy bell rang, he even fraternized with the cheerleaders. Keeping up to speed with their flirtatious smiles and giggly tones, he returned the same, meeting their hair twirls with his own one-liners. The ones that made girls swoon at the very drop of his voice.

All along, making sure that Gabriella would see him and be struck with a sudden stream of jealousy and envy. He saw it in her eyes, at least he thought so. Maybe it was just the lighting, or maybe he needed glasses, but every time she walked by he could've sworn she was jealous.

During lunch, the cafeteria was filled with balloons and banners all advertising the big game. He sat at his table, just as always, with Chad by his side. He wasn't hungry nor thirsty but he found himself drinking water unintentionally as it kept his mind clear of Gabriella. He drank the last bit of his water bottle, and found himself needing more.

"Water." he said loudly, his voice carrying over the entire cafeteria. Before he knew it, an unopened bottle of water sat sternly in front of him. "Chad?" he barked, as the boy's head perched up. "What do you think about this Gabriella?"

"Montez? She's smart, a real genius at that. She's hot, but definitely wouldn't sleep with you. I don't think she's easy like that. It be a challenge if you wanted to bag that." Chad answered.

Troy didn't respond. He wasn't sure that was the way he meant for his question to be interpreted. But either way it didn't matter what Chad thought, he didn't care what anyone thought. Well, anyone with the exception of Gabriella.

As tenth period rolled to an end and Troy was teasing random girls with his pick-up lines and arousing smirks. He caught himself and suddenly darted out of the classroom. Unannounced and surely not dismissed, it didn't seem to phase him that his punishment would surely be a detention.

He pushed into a freshman. His fist thinking before his brain as his knuckles collided with the boys chin. The boy fell smack down to the floor, not even making an attempt to fight back.

He needed to clear his mind, he needed to stop what he was doing. And what that was exactly, he wasn't quite sure. He had never faced his emotions. It was strictly ball with him, straight on, all of the time. He had three designated feelings: anger, amusement, and then there was his desirous side.

Amusement was his usual. Anger being an average and desirous being his dirty side, usually at a party or occasionally in the hallway.

But what he was doing with Gabriella, the game he had absentmindedly been playing, was new to him. He suddenly caught himself red handed with a feeling he had never submitted to. Sure he had had girlfriends, but they weren't girlfriends. Rather more, disposable mouths. He was a teenage boy, and just like any other teenage boy, he had needs.

Was it the chase that made him so repulsively attracted to her? Or was it the way she fought back? He didn't know. But if there was one thing he did know, it was that Gabriella Montez was different from any other girl. That was for sure.

He walked into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. The icy feeling temporarily put his mind to ease. He stared into the mirror, speaking to no one but himself.

"You don't like her." he said, clearly annunciating every word for his own purpose.

When the last bell rang, Gabriella had finally reached her answer. She was going to do it. Tutor him, that is.

What was the harm? It's not as if she was breaking any rules.

Slamming her locker shut, she clutched her books and headed off to meet Troy. As she got closer to the court, yelling drifted from the gym. She quietly carried herself down the hallway, positioning outside of the gym door.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Troy? Getting into another fight like that? If you get benched for the Championship, I'll be sure you never hear the end of it." a man, who Gabriella quickly assumed was the coach, shouted.

"Yeah, that's a threat." Troy replied, his full-attention given to the hard, gymnasium floor.

"I beg your pardon?" the man brawled.

"You know damn well what I said." Troy answered, glaring up from the floor to meet the man before him.

Just as Gabriella made up her mind that eavesdropping was wrong, this was his business not hers, and began walking away, the man standing before Troy punched him dead on in the jaw. She gulped unintentionally loud, hearable for only Troy's ears.

"Now get your ass to the showers." the man demanded.

"I'd rather not." and with that parting note, he grabbed his gym bag and headed for the door.

Gabriella didn't know whether she should stay and continue with her ambitions, or if she should leave and run for her life. After a flat split second thought, she tightened the grip on her book bag strap, and held her stance by the gym door.

"Not now." he brawled, throwing his water bottle through the doors. Internally he hoped it would hit the man who had just punched him.

"I thought you needed a tutor..." she replied, finding herself dead in a chase after him as though her legs were carrying her without permission.

He stopped, turned around, and faced her. His eyes were consumed with malicious hate and his voice wavered with bitterness.

A drained chuckle left his mouth as the words slid off his tongue, "I didn't think you'd come."

"I'm here, aren't I?" she responded, standing up to his level.

"Okay," he said, heading to the library. "Let's do this."

The minute they reached the library, she promenaded to one of the smaller tables and sprawled her math books and texts onto the hard surface. They both were quickly seated and Gabriella began the long antagonizing process of teaching.

Forty-seven minutes past as Gabriella was breaking down the properties of triangles. Troy had easily breezed by every single one of her mathematically amped questions. And after the first fifteen minutes of their session, she realized something rather appealing.

He was catching on abnormally easily, quickly filling out every homework paper and study guide. His answers were all correct but occasionally he would falter. Obviously making up an answer to differ her away from his original intentions.

Though all the while, she said nothing. Letting herself enjoy every moment of it and bask in what was surely a ploy to spend time with her. And just as quickly as an hour had come, another flew by. Before they knew it, two hours had pasted but neither cared to acknowledge the time.

It was Troy's cell phone that rang first, breaking them from their intense comprehension of angles and symmetry. He hung up moments later, establishing that he had to get home for dinner. Gabriella had already began packing her things, but he volunteered to help. She shrugged him off, saying that she could do it herself and watched him walk out of the library.

When she had stuffed the last book into her book bag, she left the library. As she walked out the doors, there he stood, directly across from her. His one foot hoisted, embrosed against the wall. His arms were crossed as usual while a bored, softly angered look wiped his face.

"You realize, it took you fifteen minutes to pack up all of your shit." he said, trailing after her as she headed for the main doors.

"You could've left. It wasn't mandatory for you to stay." Gabriella replied, looking behind her to see him following.

"Well, it's dark. You could get raped." he answered, sure of himself.

"Just admit it, you wanted to walk me to my car because Troy Bolton has a soft side." she hummed, stopping to poke his chest. A graceful, but devilish, smile smeared over her lips.

He pushed back a dry chuckle that begged to exit his mouth, and advanced to her car. She got in, started the engine, and drove off without another word.

Watching her car escape into the dark night ahead of him, he smirked, preceding to his own car.

No, Gabriella Montez, was definitely not a regular girl. He was sure of it.


	5. Chapter Five

A/N: WELL been a rough week. And I just read a story that made me cry which is totally impossible. Enjoy this chaptaa...

**CHAPTER FIVE**

The harmony of the rain slamming against his window pain woke him up abruptly the next morning. He rolled over in his bed, looking out the window to see the rain creeping down the glass. His eyes moved aimlessly to the clock on his bedside table.

"Five-thirty?" he groaned, turning over again so he was facing upward, laying on his back.

Minutes passed as he laid there, hoping for sleep to sweep him away. Tossing over to look at his clock, he sighed, displeased that only nine minutes had passed. He lay there for a short while longer, still hoping he'd fall back to sleep. But the ambiance of dormancy never showed. With one last sigh and a disappointed groan he rolled out of bed and tottled to his shower.

A mere five and a half minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, towel and – well, that was it – just a towel. He rushed to get dressed, as if he were late. Throwing extra clothes in his gym bag and storming out of the house to his car. If he couldn't sleep, neither could the rest of the team.

On the way to school, for an extra-early practice, he called every single one of his teammates, even second-string. Ordering for them to be in the gym by the time he got there or risk suspension. Although he was only captain of the varsity basketball team and didn't have the authority to suspend anyone, none of his auxiliaries dare refuse his demands for an early practice.

Walking through the front doors of East High, he glanced around the empty building. He was quick on noting that the only lights on were the ones irradiating the hallways. While making his way to the gym, he by-passed the library observing that only one single desk lamp illuminated the large space. Though he couldn't say he had been there many times before, he couldn't help but look inside.

Before he had time to think about it, his legs broadly carried him to the large glass doors, which were currently wide open. He stopped, just outside of the door and leaned against the post. Allowing his eyes to aberrate from their original objective, he realized there was a person sitting behind the desk.

She was hunched over, buried in her work. Her long, flowing dark hair cascading down her back. Without even seeing her face, he was awfully certain he knew who it was.

"Gawking again, are we, Bolton?" Gabriella asked, bringing her head up from her work to turn around and face him.

"What are you doing here so early?" he answered, ignoring the question presented just as he usually did.

"I could ask the same of you." she said, her eyes reaching his. The dark light deluged his facial components, extenuating his jaw line and broad features. He took a step closer, gaiting into the library. For the first time, in as long as he could remember, he had nothing to say back. His mouth went dry, all he could do was stare at her. "You're obviously here for a reason, considering it's," she paused, taking a glimpse down at her watch, "six in the morning and school doesn't start until eight. So, stop fantasizing and go do whatever it is you're here to do."

"You know you want this." he said with the same usual amused tone to his voice, a dangerous smirk playing with his lips. Dismissing anything she had left to say, any smart comments or witty remarks, he made his exit. With the pleasure of having the last word roaming over his head, he jotted off to the gym.

She flicked the pencil back and forth against her geometry notebook. Though not wanting to return to an empty house, she wondered whether or not she should go home. She sat in the library later that day, her last period ending hardly ten minutes ago. Satisfied with the studying she had already completed and the homework that was finished, she leaned back in her chair.

Her hands closed her books, picking them up in one swift grasp, she debouched for her locker. After throwing her books into the compacted space, organizing them to her liking, she slammed the door shut and strode toward her unknown destination. Passing her home room, the cafeteria, and the auditorium, her legs reached the room they had intended on going to all along– unbeknownst to her.

She ambled aimlessly through the big, scarlet shaded doors and into the gym. It was completely abandoned with nothing left but a basketball. Not giving herself the chance to change her mind, she slipped off her heels, adjusted her skirt and picked up the ball.

Absentmindedly dribbling back and forth, making her way to the hoop.

She shot, she scored.

Smiling broadly, pleased of her accomplishment. Quickly retrieving the ball, she heard him speak.

"Damn. Smart Chick is actually not bad at hoops. Don't let the expression on my face fool you, I'm shocked."

"Well, Stone Cold can't be the only one with good aim." she responded, shooting once again only to hear the whisk of the ball swooping through the net.

"Stone Cold? Where'd you get that one?" Troy asked, taking a step closer to her.

"Well, it is your only emotion, isn't it?"

"Aha," he muttered what seemed to be his version of a laugh, "you are quite the smart ass." Negligently she passed him the ball, which he caught smoothly and rested on his hip. "Are you trying to start something?" he asked, the ball still comfortably placed on his side.

"We can stand here examining the symptoms of Sexually Transmitted Diseases or you can pass the ball." she hummed, spooring closer to him.

He shot the ball towards her and quickly learned that her small petite body and fast legs definitely gave her the upper hand. Time swarmed by, but nothing stopped them. They continued on, not bothering with the score.

The air was thick with competition and tension breezed by. The whole gym filled with heat, leaving Troy sweating and Gabriella flustered to a light shade of pink. Neither of them spoke and neither of them complained. Though both were sweltering hot, neither would give in. Suddenly, Gabriella raised her hands in what seemed to be defeat.

"Calling it quits already? I knew you couldn't handle this." Troy said, sweat sparkling his forehead.

She laughed, rolling her eyes, "I wasn't quitting." Before he could muster another word, she stretched her hands in the air, and pulled off her shirt. Too Troy's disappointment, only revealing a simple white tank top.

"In that case," he stopped, dropping the ball to the side. He jerked his black shirt over his head and threw it off to the side. Too Gabriella's pleasure, he revealed nothing but tanned abs and perfectly sculpted – everything. "Let's go."

She reached over, grabbed the ball and the two returned to their unofficial competition.

A half an hour later, they were moving slower than when they started. But both still fired with enough energy to go the rest of the night.

He was guarding her as she dribbled, his arms flailing around her figure. Their bodies only inches apart, she faked left but he was quick to catch on. As he trailed after her, dribbling through the gym to and from each side, she made an abrupt turn.

With the sudden movement, his foot got caught in with her's. Bringing them both to the ground, Gabriella landing on top of him. After what seemed to be much longer than it actually was, Troy spoke up in his typical amused tone.

"This is great and all, but I'm kind of partial to being on top."

Gabriella's eyes sparked with hate as she jumped off of him. She took a quick look at her watch, noting the time at seven-thirty. He looked outside the large glass windows, high above the gym walls, seeing nothing but dark starry skies.

"We better get out of here before we're locked in." he said, reaching for his water bottle.

"Don't even joke about that." she said, pulling her shirt back on and heading for the door.

They parted ways, not a word being said in between the distance of the gym to the parking lot, and Gabriella hurried off to her car. She hopped in and started the engine.

Nothing.

She tried again, and still... nothing.

Not giving up she turned the key countless times more, waiting for the clear sound of accomplishment, but nothing came. She pulled out her cell phone and peered down at it. After minutes of intense concentration on who to call, she settled for the fact that there was no one. Her mom had left early that morning and was probably a thousand miles away. Taylor didn't have a car, and she didn't feel it a necessity to bother anyone else.

She got out and began her long walk home. But afore she had the chance to leave the side of her car, someone spoke up.

"Need a ride?" he asked, more than less commented.

"Yeah right, I'd walk home in the rain before I ever road in the same car as you." Just as the words floated from her mouth, rain sprinkled from the sky and a bolt of lightening hit a nearby tree.

"Alright then." he said, trudging off to his car.

She, too, heading off in her own direction. The rain strengthened with each step she took, thunder shaking the sky above her. She walked down the sidewalk, the rain tearing into her full blast. She couldn't see anything within three feet. Barely halfway home, Gabriella noticed a car trailing behind her.

As her pace increased steadily, wanting desperately to get out of the rain, the car sped up too. Then just as that car pulled beside her, she stopped falsingly and faced the driver.

"Fine!" she shouted, throwing her arms up in defeat as she opened the passenger door. When she settled into her seat and pulled the seatbelt across her chest, he looked over in her direction then started on his way. "I can't stand you, you know that?" she said fiercely, not daring to look at him.

"Yeah? Well, don't set yourself short because I'm not very fond of the girl who insists on bitching at my every command." he stated, coldly as always showing no sign to his emotion.

"Oh, so because I don't commemorate your every word and pass out at the sound of your voice makes me a bitch?" she asked, finally facing him. He stopped the car and glared at her.

He returned the snide remark by giving her a hazardous look that sent chills down her spine. And not just the usual chills you get when you're terrified, but the kind one gets when put into a situation where their knees go weak and they find themselves completely turned on.

"We're at your house."

She looked out the rainy window and stammered, "Yeah..." she paused, not wanting to get out of is safe, sheltered car and pounce into the rain. Her door opened, and she exited.. "Thanks, I guess."

He said nothing, simply put his car in reverse and pulled out of her driveway.

The rain crept down her cheeks and soaked her clothing when something finally clicked.

"He knows where I live?" she asked herself aloud, walking towards the front door. Flinging it open, she gave one last look at the wet road before her and couldn't help but muster a smile before slammed the door shut, and ran upstairs.


	6. Chapter Six

A/N: part deux!

**CHAPTER SIX**

Lightning cracked just behind the tree in her neighbor's back yard causing her to jump. The rain smashed against the windows in her bedroom. Her room was dark and eerie. It was nights like this that she hated her mother for never being around. It was nights like this that she wished she wasn't always alone. It was nights like this that made her wonder how life would be if things were different.

She hurriedly flicked on the light on her night stand, hoping it would bring her peace of mind. Thunder roared overhead as the tree outside drummed against her bedside window. Her imagination quickly got the best of her as she convulsed, scared of the ghostly darkness that came with the nighttime sky.

She peered outside her balcony doors, afraid of what she would see. But nothing could be seen through the storm that performed outside. As she focused staring out the window, nothing was visible but the blanket of rain that crawled down the glass.

The clothes on her body were soaking wet and she shook as goose bumps ascended from her arms. The hairs on the back of her neck shot straight up. Not only was she frightened but she was freezing.

How she wanted to change but couldn't muster up enough courage. Suddenly she laughed.

"You are such a wimp!" she muttered to herself, looking in the elongated mirror that hung from her closet door.

Her body tossed when another bolt of lightning struck just outside of her yard. She wanted so badly to call someone, but who would she call? Her mother was in New York for a book signing and other than her, there was no one.

She eyed her phone, hoping she could think of an answer, but nothing. Her breath stammered as it was filled with distress and a hint of fear. The lights flickered when another lightening bolt struck. The rain was loud enough to drowned out her thoughts as she leaned against her desk chair.

Just as her fears began to subside, the doorbell rang causing her to knock over the chair she was using for support. That, in turn, bumped over the lamp on her desk.

Suddenly she found herself standing before her front door, eying the knob that would so welcomingly open it. Her mind went to and fro with a debate.

_Should I? Shouldn't I?_ she thought, her head tilted to the side.

The doorbell succeeded as the person on the other side of the door resulted to knocking. The knocking soon turned to beating as the door vibrated with the blows.

Before she knew it, the door was open and her breath was hitched some where deep in her throat.

"Troy?" she mumbled, her eyes widened with relief.

"Uh," he looked around outside of the door and into the house. She moved aside from the door and beckoned his sopping wet body inside. "the roads are all closed off and you can't see anything with this rain. There's a cop at the end of your street." he paused, walking inside. Gabriella slammed the door behind him, keeping the rain out. "Fat ass told me I couldn't get through and should find a place to stay." It took everything in him to keep his voice from wavering.

"Oh," she murmured, suppressing her enthusiasm. "I guess..." Her eyes wandered over to him. His hair drenched with rain water as it clung to his forehead. The black t-shirt he wore stuck to his every move, clinging onto him for dear life. "I guess you can stay here." she finished, internally smiling with utter joy.

"Your parents won't mind? I can stay in my car, it's cool." He too suppressed his feverish new emotion as he headed back towards the door.

"Well, it's just my mom and she's out of town... for another week." she answered, the last words trailing off to be inaudible for anyone but herself. "Just stay, Troy. If lightening hit your car and you were fried alive, I'd end up feeling terrible. And I really don't need the stress."

"Yeah, thanks, Montez." he snarled, sarcastically, eying over her wet body. Her curly brown locks had changed to a dark shade of black from the rain as they clasped to her face and neck. The loose blue low-cut shirt that once flowed over her torso now froze wet like an ice cube. His mind wandered off, picturing her in the gym. Basketball in hand, her face covered in determination.

"You're all wet." she interrupted, dragging him out of his thoughts.

"Way to state the obvious." he said, smirking with amusement. "So are you."

"Yeah, _well_..." her voice trailed off, succumbing to awkward silence. "Do you want to take a shower? I could put your clothes in the dryer or something. If your going to stay..." She looked away, avoiding any eye contact, "you probably don't want to be wet." She shrugged, feeling uncoordinated and nervously shy.

"Are you volunteering to take a shower with me?" he questioned, his eyebrows perched.

"What?!" she shouted, flabbergasted. "Oh.. I... uh...no!" she blurted. "I meant, like..." A joking smile wiped his face which she quickly spotted. "You jerk!" she yelled, slapping his shoulder forcing water to splash off his shirt.

"Relax, I'm kidding." he reassured.

After an extended uncomfortable pause, where their eyes both explored the entry next to the door, Troy accepted her offer. She shuffled him off to the bathroom three doors down from her bedroom. Upon leaving the bathroom, she walked downstairs, instructing him to throw his clothes down to her.

As each article of his wet clothing flew down the steps and onto the kitchen floor, she couldn't help but blush erratically. She bent over, picking up the clothes that swooped down the steps. One wet black t-shirt that seemed to capture his distinct scent. One grey pair of baggy gym shorts, drenched, with two white stripes leading down the sides. And one navy-blue checkered-plaid pair of...

"Boxers..." she muttered, half of her disgusted, the other half lusting every minute.

Within twenty minutes, Gabriella had Troy's clothes, dry and warm, waiting for him outside of the bathroom door. And barely seconds after she had carefully placed his clothes in a neat pile outside of the bathroom door, Troy appeared in the kitchen.

The two stood in another awkwardly uncomfortable silence. Darkness roaring over outside as thunder cannonaded high above. His mind spaced out as he noticed her small body trembling. Her head was tilted to the side and her full gaze directed outside the window where rain inched down the glass.

"You should probably go change. You're cold, you'll get sick." he predicated, examining her cold statue.

"Um, yeah. I'm going to go take a shower, just..." A fake smile grazed her lips, trying to cover her nervousness. "Just make yourself at home, I guess." Her voice quivered and Troy quickly took notice. Although it was unclear to him if it was because she was bothered, nervous, or just plain cold.

His thoughts swept him off to another world once more as he caught himself watching her ascend up the steps. He hurriedly cocked his head in a different direction, hoping she wouldn't point out his 'gawking' as she usually did. When he heard the bathroom door close and the shower start, his hand rubbed the kitchen counter he had been leaning on.

Time flew past him, as he stood in the kitchen, not moving an inch. He peered up the stairs, unexpectedly finding himself standing outside of what had to have been her bedroom door.

It was brushed open, just enough for him to see inside. Before he could take control of own legs, he found himself standing in her bedroom, looking around.

Definitely the typical girly bedroom. Floral print comforter, white furniture, and mirrors hanging everywhere. He walked around, glancing at pictures and stuffed plush toys. A sudden feeling of deja vu swam through his veins as he picked up a photo album promptly labeled, "Thomas and Gabriella." Out of nowhere, he was briskly flipping through the pages as if he were approving her choices. Then he turned to a page with a picture of her and this 'Thomas' kissing. He felt his blood curdle as if it were boiling inside of him.

"When I said make yourself at home, I didn't mean for you to take it so literally." she said, secretly making his heart jump as he dropped the book.

He turned around to see her wrapped in nothing but a towel. His eyes went wide as he contained himself. "Well, the door was open. What do you expect?" he replied, fixing his eyes on her every move, her every curve.

"Yeah, I get it. I'm naked, now get out so I can put some damn clothes on!" she fumed, rather calmly as she shooed him out of her room. Her hands closed the door behind him, her body collapsing against it's hard wooden cover. She smiled, breathlessly. Not sure why or how but suddenly butterflies swarmed into her stomach as she forcefully attempted to regain control.

The door opened minutes later, Troy still standing outside in the hallway. His back turned to her.

"Do you need me to hold your hand and walk you down the stairs?" she hallowed sarcastically, smiling nonchalantly.

"Wouldn't mind." he muttered, seconds later, hoping she didn't hear him. But, of course, she did. The words making her heart beat faster and her body perspire.

She yanked his wrist, pulling him back to reality. "Wake up." she mumbled, flailing her hands in his face. "Come on, I'll get some sheets and you can sleep on the couch." As the words left her mouth, the thoughts in her mind wanted to change every sentence. Making altercations fitting in to something along the lines of, 'You can sleep in my bed.'

He stood in the hallway, not budging. When she returned, pillow and blankets in hand, worry stormed through her like a runner in race. "Are you alright? You don't seem, I don't know..." she paused, thinking of the perfect word, "as unhuman as usual."

"What? Oh, nothing. I'm just out of it, I guess."

"Yeah, guess so. C'mon." She pulled on his wrist, bidding him downstairs to the living room. Laying out the blankets and pillow, she coaxed him to the couch. Showing him the closest bathroom, and anything else she thought he might need in the middle of the night. Her eyes wandered over to the clock. "Well, it is only ten-forty." she murmured, wishing everything wasn't so awkward.

He mustered a 'good night' and she returned the same, heading back upstairs to her room.

She laid in her bed, tossing and turning. The pouring rain, the incredulous thunder, and room-brightening lightening all contributing to her sleepless night. Downstairs the same problem rose on the couch with Troy. Every lightening bolt seemed to illuminate the entire house. Every rumble of thunder seemed to shake the foundation, vibrating every inanimate object in the home.

His eyes scanned the clock, watching every minute pass. Ten-fifty. Ten-fifty-two. Ten-fifty-three. Fifty-four. Fifty-five.

Then suddenly lightening cracked just outside the living room window, piercing a tree directly in the front yard. Thunder boomed, louder than ever and a scream armied downstairs from Gabriella's bedroom, meeting instantly with Troy's ears.

He advanced up the stairs and down the long hallway, finding himself aimlessly standing inside of her room once again. Her body was raised as she laid in bed. She quickly took notice of the new figure standing just afore her door. He skimmed over to her, his eyes filled with concern when he suddenly realized she had left the lights on. Her desk lamp, the light beside her bed, and a small miniature lava lamp night light beamed from the corner. Not a word escaped his mouth, but she instantly answered his silent question.

"I'm fine, just not a big fan of storms." _Or the dark, or being alone_... her mind traipsed on.

"Yeah, who is?" He said, sensing her fear. He shrugged before approaching the door. But just before his foot reached the hallway, lightening struck once more, and thunder roared even louder than before. He turned around, looking at Gabriella who jumped, trembling, when the lights flashed and the electricity went out.

"God dammit." she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

"Why don't you come downstairs? We'll light a fire or candles, or something. I don't know, just..." he stopped reaching for her arm and pulling her out of bed, "come on."

He practically dragged him downstairs, sitting her down on the couch. Her body meeting the soft, plush fabric sent chills down her spine. The spot where he had laid was comfortably warm and as she leaned against the back of the couch, she realized it smelled like him too.

A smile smoothly lingered on her lips as she thought of the days to come. After this, after the storm, when Troy could go home and they would go back to school, her couch, her sheets and pillow would all be reminiscent of his smell. She let out a feathery sigh that seemed to lift her heart.

A voice came from the kitchen asking her where a lighter was. She softly replied, "Third drawer from the refrigerator."

In the kitchen, darkness sucking away any visible shape or form, Troy felt around the counter, making his way to what he made out to be the refrigerator. He bumped into the stove on the way, mentally counting each drawer he fingered.

_One, two, three_, he thought, opening the drawer and pulling out a long-necked lighter. He returned from the kitchen, lighting every candle he spotted a long the way. As he bent down to the level of the fireplace, two small hands pulled him back up.

"Here, let me." she said in a rather hushed tone. Within seconds a blazing fire roared from the small square fireplace. She leaped onto the couch opposite the one Troy had coyly placed himself in front of, and laid her head against a pillow. "Do you want something to drink? Or eat?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence filling the air.

He shook his head and for the first time since her shower, he got a chance to look her over. She was no longer wet, but her hair still had a damp look to it. Her legs were brought up to her chest as she curled herself into a ball. _What the hell are you doing?_ He yelled mentally at himself. But he couldn't help it, his eyes were uncontrollable. They flicked over to her face, which seemed to sparkle in the candle light. He let his gaze drift down to her apparel, tiny little shorts that could have passed for underwear, covered quaintly by a short-sleeved shirt reading, "New Harbor" in big bold letters.

"It's in Connecticut." she said, looking at him with a soft smile as she stood from the couch. Walking towards the kitchen, she glanced back seeing nothing but confusion and utter disbelief written on his face. "New Harbor? It's in Connecticut. I moved to New Mexico from Connecticut. And before then there was San Diego, and Portland. Back any farther, I can't remember." she called, her voice carrying in from the kitchen.

"You move a lot, don't you?" he responded just as she walked back into the living room, two coffee mugs in hand. She swiftly passed him one, bending down to the level on the floor whispering something about hot chocolate and it would keep them warm from being out in the cold. He answered with a simple nod, some where implying a 'thank you' as she sat down on the floor across from him.

"Yeah, my mom's an author and basically where ever her 'tour of the month' takes her, is where I go too. But lately, I guess, she thinks I'm old enough to be on my own and care for myself. It's usually just me, now." Some where inside of him, deep behind his rigid heart, a sympathetic cry released itself silently. "She's coming home for Christmas next week. You know, taking time away from her book signing and what not." He only nodded, begging for this discussion to go in a different direction than where he assumed it was heading, his family. "Troy, are you on drugs?" she said, breaking him from his pleas. Her question wasn't exactly what he had expected. Actually, it was the farthest thing from what he had expected.

"What? No." he replied, shaking his head and sitting his warm mug of hot chocolate down on the floor next to him. "Why?"

"Well, you're acting out of your element." she answered, pausing for a second then continuing, "Like the real Troy walked out of his own body and left some weird, incoherent silent guy who has no remarks or harsh, egotistical comments."

"Damn, that was thought out." he said, looking over at her. "And I'm not egotistical. _And_, you have yet to meet 'the real Troy.'" he stated, grinning his own conception of a smile.

"What is that suppose to mean?" she questioned, following suit by sitting her mug down next to her.

He shook his head. "Nothing, just this 'real Troy' you're talking about, you don't know him."

"Oh, let me guess. 'The real Troy' is a homicidal maniac who's going to kill me when I fall asleep?"

A dry chuckle found it's way out of his mouth. "Nah, I'm not psychotic."

"Just extremely secretive, well kept, and if I do say so myself... rather mysterious." Gabriella suddenly finished his sentence for him. Her arms were crossed and amusement played her face.

"Ahh, mysterious? Secretive? What am I, a comic book villain?"

Gabriella laughed, and smiled sincerely. "No, I meant that..." She looked over at him, only a foot away from her. "Actually, I don't know what I meant. But every word, it was all true." He said nothing, just smirked and leaned over on the floor, resting his head on his hand while he perched his elbow. "Yesterday, in the gym, I saw you with the basketball coach. I saw what he did..." her voice trailed off. As the words left her mouth, she shuddered, praying she made the right choice in bringing it up. Her eyes took a quick glance of the analog clock that hung above them in the corner. Reading slowly, being battery charged, one twenty-three.

"Yeah, I saw you by the door. It's no big deal. My dad, he just got pissed. Guess that's where I got my temper." He shrugged, trying to ward off any further discussion on the subject. All the while, his mind drifted off, internally deepening the subject. Inside, beseeching that he wouldn't let his heredity turn him into his temperamental father.

"So...?" Gabriella pushed, eyeing him as she leaned over, closer to him. She wasn't sure what she wanted him to say, or what her single worded questioned implied.

"Just drop it." he growled, throwing out a soft glare. She looked into his eyes, knowing he didn't want her to push the subject any further and she nodded. But as her eyes smoothed into his, she noticed something that she had seen before but never really got the chance to recognize. His eyes glinted with cool, sincere, ramblicity that seemed to soften her soul. She didn't know what it was, but something in his crystal blue orbs carried through a sign that an actual person with real feelings was harbored up inside of Troy Bolton. The same boy that had established his authority long ago.

"Even if I do hate you, you can always talk to me. If you want, you know." she mumbled softly.

He scoffed, making an effort to reply. But was interrupted by lightening cracking just above the house causing Gabriella to scream and jump at the sudden noise. The bolt sparked the sky with illuminance as the thunder rumbled at it's peak. Letting go of the thought that probably would have pushed their hardcore relationship even further into oblivion, Troy laughed.

A real, unintentional laugh. Not a dry, wispy chuckle but an actual laugh. Gabriella quickly caught a hold of the sound, smiling cheerfully, suppressing her bold embarrassment.

"You should do that more often." she said, containing the red that pricked her cheeks.

He grinned, taking view of the blush that wiped her soft face. "Do what?" he asked, in anticipation.

"Laugh. Like _really _laugh."

At that very second, he felt his heart stop. Not for long or enough to damage him, but long enough for him to smile. A quick half smile where Gabriella could've sworn she not only saw pink smearing his cheeks, but sparkle in his eyes. A sparkle that seemed to enlighten her mind and soften her dark brown eyes. It was at that moment in time that she first got an insight on the 'real Troy Bolton.'

Although she was too consumed with sleep deprivation to notice it, she would have been heart warmed to know that she was the first. The very first person to get a chance to see the miracle of humanity. A person behind the tempered boy with piercing eyes and a milk curdling glare. For one split second in time, she had a glimpse behind the protective cage he had built up around his ora. It was as if she was standing behind a strong, tall brick wall with the smallest crack in it. A crack where she could bend over and peep inside to see what was happening behind closed doors.

Too bad she didn't notice it.


	7. Chapter Seven

A/N: crazy FF wouldn't let me update. Why? I don't know. Oh well, all that matters is I can now so here's lucky 7. ;)

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Morning breadth around the corner, the storms drifting off to cloudy skies. The thunder faded out and the lightening deceased slowly. By two o' clock in the afternoon, transformers had been repaired and phone lines had been rehabilitated. Although inside the quiet, suburban home, that had made shelter from the rain for two teenagers, everything was the same as it had been the night before.

Troy and Gabriella laid in the same position all throughout the night and all throughout the morning. Her head softly resting on his chest, while his strong arms securely wrapped around her small figure. No blankets, no pillows, no bed. Just a carpeted floor and the warmth of the other's body was all that was needed. But with their abysmal exhaustion, neither floundered to care, or rather in this case, notice.

It's been said that the subconscious mind expresses ones' deepest desires, whether comprehendible or not. For the pair sleeping soundly on the floor, that said theory is more than relevant. She clutched his side, smiling in her dormancy. Her dreams had pulled her into a deep sleep that seemed to be never ending. He strengthened his grip on her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head, subliminally.

A loud ringing noise sifted through the air, pulling them out of their hibernation ever so slowly. It would stop for several moments, then rage up again, still going unnoticed. The ringing persisted, seemingly getting louder and louder as both Troy and Gabriella rose from their sleep.

"Ughh," she groaned, burying her face in his chest, "don't answer it." Four eyelids flipped open as two sets of optics wandered through the room. Suddenly landing on one thing in particular, their position. Bodies jolted into the air, as Gabriella jumped to her feet. "Oh...my." she mumbled, forcing back her thoughts and pushing forth with the present.

His eyes looked around, directing their full attention on anything but Gabriella – avoiding her at all costs. Quickly roaming to his cell phone, the center of all the ringing. Flipping it open, a loud, retched scream came from the other end.

"Troy Bolton! Where the hell are you?" He shuddered, looking over at Gabriella who shrugged while a soft smile pursed her lips. "I thought you were dead! How dare you not call!" The voice coming from the other end of the line was strong, and loud leaving Gabriella to hear every word clearly.

"Hey, the power was out, my phone didn't work." he lied. Truth be told, he hadn't even thought about the Bolton's or the panic that must've hit them or _anything_ for that matter. The thought of how they would feel when he didn't come home never came across his mind. Gabriella silently drowned out the rest of the conversation, hearing Troy answer the woman's, his mother most likely, abiding questions as to his whereabouts and such.

She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Holding the glass to her lips, she leaned against the counter. Moments later, Troy strayed into the kitchen. Her hands gripped the glass tighter at his sudden presence as her cheeks flushed with pink and her breath stuck to her throat like a piece of gum. He was quick to spot her nervous statute and stifled breathing, raising his right hand to rub the back of his neck.

"I gotta get home." he announced, his eyes connecting with hers sending distant frigid chills down her spine. He said a quick 'thank you' to which Gabriella responded with a nod. She followed him as he walked towards the door, which she slowly opened. His legs carried him out to the front porch and down the three steps that turned into a short walkway. He stopped, reaching the walkway and turned around to face her. "There's this party tonight," he said, trying his best to keep his cool. "Are you going?"

Her mind wandered around, thinking back to her first day at East High when a boy in her grade had invited her to his house party later that week on Saturday night. She paused, clutching the glass of orange juice still tightly positioned in her hand. "Um, yeah. I think so."

"Well, I'll see you there." he stated, smirking one last time before heading off to his car. Just as he opened the door, Taylor appeared at the end of the driveway storming up to the front door.

"Troy!?" she questioned, astonished at his presence. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," he paused, "just stopped by to have sex with Montez, over there. Thanks, by the way. It was good." With that parting remark, he hopped into his car and drove off. Taylor's mouth dropped instantaneously to the ground.

"Troy!" Gabriella yelled at him as his car sped off down the street. "Ughh!" she groaned, ushering Taylor inside.

"Please tell me you didn't." she mumbled, walking inside of the house.

"I swear, I didn't. I wouldn't!" she pleaded, plopping down on the couch. _Would I?_

Taylor's eyes filtered through her surroundings. They found themselves studying the couch across from Gabriella, where a blanket and pillows were sprawled out. Her brow furrowed as the words slipped from her mouth, "He spent the night? So... you two... are... and he... and you. Oh my God! Troy Bolton? You can't be serious! He's way too... ew!" she rambled.

"Taylor, relax. Nothing happened, he brought me home after school because my car wouldn't start and he left. But the rain and then the police..." she paused, staring at Taylor who's forehead was scrunched and her eyes glistened with confusion. "He needed a place to stay, I felt bad. That's it. Nothing else."

The tension that had burst out all through Taylor's body lessened as she heard Gabriella's reasoning. She shrugged after a long silence, figuring her tale was more than likely to be possible.

"Not to be rude, or anything," Gabriella began, breaking the silence, "But why are you here?"

"Mm, well the storm knocked out the power all a long our block and the Electric Company said it wouldn't be fixed until tomorrow. I was just wondering if I could use your shower..." she replied, her voice trailing off sparcingly. Gabriella's eyes wandered down, when for the first time they noticed a bag strapped to Taylor's side.

"Oh, yeah sure!" Gabriella answered, nodding her head slowly.

She gestured Taylor to the bathroom and showed her any of the necessary amenities she thought her friend might need, and left the bathroom. Strolling to her room, she quickly changed and brushed her hair, sparking her eyes with a hint of eyeliner and a spruce of mascara.

Only minutes later, Taylor appeared in the kitchen. Her hair was damp and her clothes had been changed, but the bag still dangled off her shoulder, stopping at her left hip.

"Gabriella, can we talk?" she said, taking a step closer to the stove, leaning against it for support.

"About what?" Gabriella questioned, ruffling her eyebrow as she munched on a Cheerio. The box stationary in her hand.

"Troy."

"Oh, come on, Taylor. I swear, on the God that is Zac Efron, nothing happened. I wouldn't lie, especially about something as futile as this!" she answered, her eyes widening with each word as she reached for the Cheerio box, grabbing a handful. All the while, her right hand raised in abiding truthfulness.

Taylor paused, seemingly taking time to ponder her next statement. She rested her left hand on the stove top, her full attention directed out the window that was positioned above the kitchen sink. Her right eyebrow cocked upward, while her forehead withered.

"No, no. I believe you. It's just, I don't want you to get hurt by the likes of one horribly tempered Troy Bolton. He's not worth getting involved with, being the epitome of bad news and all. I'm sure you can take care of yourself, and I know you wouldn't ever fall for his charades, and I'm sure you don't like him..." She took a breath and stood up straight. The questions and concerns rolled through Gabriella's mind in a whirlwind of thoughts, mixing together as if her brain had suddenly become a human blender. She carefully sat the Cheerio box down on the counter and took a step towards Taylor, her eyes silently asking her to continue. "Watch your back, that's all I'm saying. He's a total 'Ladies Man.' And my sources tell me that he's sparked a sudden interest in you."

Her last statement caused Gabriella's stomach to drop down to her feet. She smiled, happily then quickly washed it away with a blank expression, not wanting Taylor to notice her suspicious behavior. But behind that simple, pure blank expression was a bottle of emotions waiting to be splurged.

"Your sources? Taylor, since when do you have sources?" she asked, a hint of sarcasm surfacing through her words as the tiniest smirk turned her lips.

"You know what I mean." Taylor mimicked, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms in impatience.

"Yes, I do. And don't worry about me, Taylor. Troy's nothing but a narcissistic ass, with terrible 'bad boy' tendencies. I don't like him, but he _does _get on my nerves." She sighed, realizing that she was trying to convince herself more than Taylor. "But it's nice to know that you care, and want to look out for me." Her arms opened and the two girls embraced in a sweet, friendly hug. Pulling away moments later, Gabriella concealed her distress with a pleased smile.

"Well, I better get home. My parents are dragging me and my brother off to a pointless graduation party for some kid I don't even know!" Taylor announced, frowning emblacly.

"A graduation party, in December?"

"Don't add to the confusion." she replied in an irritated tone, more so at her situation than at Gabriella.

"Wait, does that mean your not going to the party tonight?"

"Guess not." she shrugged, her demeanor souring with fret. "Thanks for the shower, Gabby. I'll see you on Monday."

They walked toward the door, which Gabriella opened, and both walked out. Hugging one last time, Taylor had her final 'good-bye' as she headed back home. Both girls waved one last time before Gabriella closed her front door, leaning against it as a pent-up squeal slipped through her mouth. She smiled more than cheerfully and jumped up in the air.

"Oh my God." she said, suddenly. Her hand encasing itself over her mouth, sealing off the girly squeals. "I do _not _like Bolton." she nicked, her voice rustling up intensity. But her voice was unconvincing and she was quick to notice. "I like Troy Bolton." The words left with a small, inaudible whisper but seemed to sweep through the air carrying themselves around the house. "You can't be serious!" she shouted, storming off to her room.

Meanwhile, only two miles away, an alert yet flustered Troy stormed the court on the side of his house. It was make shift, consisting of a basketball hoop and a few painted outlines, significantly embroidering the three-point line. The basketball clutched in his hands was warn, but still in good shape.

Every few second he would jump up and pelt it at the basketball hoop, not so much as in practice but anger. But nonetheless even with the extra force applied when he heaved the ball at the net, it went in every time. His thoughts had him bandaged in a tight adhesive, that seemed like it would never let go. He was lost in his mind, leaving his body to control itself. The perceiving cyclone that entered his conscience was so wrapped up in mindings, that he hadn't noticed the boy walk into his yard or through the fence that wrapped around his entire house.

"Troy!" the boy yelled, billowing his hands in front of his face.

"Chad?" he answered, his face scrunched as he dropped the basketball.

"So you do remember me." He stopped, waiting for Troy's command for him to continue. He simply nodded and Chad carried on with his original intentions. "That storm last night, pretty wack, y'know?" His rhetorical question received nothing but a slow nod in compliance with a 'go on' gesture. "Your 'ma called my house, asking where you were. She was freaked, man." Troy sighed, he knew what was up next. Mentally his mind counted down the seconds that would lead to the question he knew he would be forced to answer. "Where were you?"

"Uh, no where." he answered, resting down in the grass next to the basketball hoop. Chad's eyebrows warped in question, he was silently pushing for more information. All the while, though, Troy knew a simple 'no where' was just going to get him exactly that, no where. "I was at Gabriella's."

With that four worded sentence, a dirty but fairly pleased smirk glistened across Chad's lips. His hair wiggled as his head bobbed in approval. "Nice, man. Real nice. To be honest, I didn't think you could get that."

"First off, why the hell not? And second of all, I didn't 'get that.'"

"Wait? You spent the night at her place and didn't sleep with her?"

"It wasn't like that." Troy insisted, his shoulders dropping as he leaned against his hands. "I dropped her off at her house, but with the rain and all... I couldn't get home. Too dangerous or something. I don't remember exactly what happened, but somehow I ended up spending the night on her couch. Dude, nothing happened."

"Alright, but is something going to happen?" Chad persisted, nudging Troy's shoulder with a swift light push.

At first he wasn't sure what to say. Troy shrugged then was tossed to his reputation, the sudden thought forced him to think quickly. "You know it. It's all part of my plan." _What the hell are you talkin' about, dumb ass, _he yelled forcefully at himself. "Yeah, my plan." he nodded, insisting to himself that he had some type of plan that would leave Gabriella begging for him at his feet. _Like that's gonna happen_, he slipped himself back in an informal line.

"Must be some shitty-ass plan, dude. This Montez girl, she's a real challenge. Unless you drug her or induce her with slut drugs, I don't think you have a chance."

Troy sighed, grimaced, then ran a swift hand through his hair. "I know." he winced, making the words quiet and not hearable for Chad's ears. _I don't have a chance_, he thought.

"Are you 'kay?" Chad said, looking down at his distressed friend who seemed to have been alienated by another being.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine."

"Your usually more confident than this, what's up?" he questioned.

"Nothing. You going to the party tonight?" he mentioned, hurrying to change the subject. Chad nodded and asked who he was going with. "I don't know." Troy shrugged, "I'll just hook-up with some chick there. That Sharpay, she's easy. If I get desperate, I'll call her. Don't worry about me and a date, how 'bout yourself? Who are you taking?"

Chad shrugged, responding with the same answer as Troy – minus Sharpay.

Three hours fished by, and Chad and Troy were passed out on the ground next to the basketball hoop. The ball had rolled off times past, and now the sweat was trickling off both of their faces.

"Hate to kill the sport, man, but I should get home. The party and shit, I need a shower. I smell like socks." Chad said, standing up and heading for the gate in which he entered.

"Yeah, I'll see 'ya at the party." They both exchanged solemn nods, as Troy headed back into his house and up to his room. He crashed to his bed moments later with one thing on his mind.

_I don't think you have a chance_... the words replayed over and over in his mind. Spinning around in a virtual merry-go-around, of course excluding the horses and ditzy childish music.

_Why do I care if I have a chance? _he thought, in question.

"I-I like her?" he stammered, tossing his statement rhetorically. "Nahh..." he answered his own question, shaking his hair out of his eyes in a fierce movement.


	8. Chapter Eight

A/N: can't say when I'll be able to update again... HSM2 hysteria has me outta my seat every five minutes to run around the house and scream. Damn fangirl. Plus, school starts in a few days... I'll work it out, you -- you enjoy!

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

It was seven-thirty later that Saturday night as Gabriella hastily paced her living room floor. She was showered, dressed, and primped, and had been for an hour or so. But just her luck, the time didn't seem to be moving. Connecting back and forth from one side of the room to another, she wasn't sure what had her so unsettled.

Her thoughts swept her away, and when she glanced at the clock the next time it clearly read seven-fifty. She snatched her cell phone off of the side table next to the couch and slowly dialed her mother's number, pacing to waste time. Her mother didn't answer until the forth ring, just when she was establishing blue-prints for a credible voice mail.

"Gabby? You need something?" her mother's voice was stern, with the slightest hint of love. Gabriella sighed, and shrugged quick to realize her mom couldn't see her. She shook her head while replying with a 'no.' Her mother asked what she needed and if it was truly that urgent it couldn't wait.

"I'm going to a party tonight, I just wanted you to know that I won't be home. And I probably won't hear my cell phone ring incase you called..." her voice trailed off. That was one thing she couldn't stand about her mother. She was two thousand miles away and still had the power to intimidate her beyond belief. Another small sigh slid out.

"Well, that's nice, sweetheart. We'll talk tomorrow, I have something important to tell you but I don't have time now. I promise to call tomorrow, Monday at the latest!" There were no 'good-byes' or 'I love yous' or even an 'I miss you,' her mother had hung up before she even had time to think about it.

But even if she did think about mustering an "I miss you mom, wish you would come home sooner. Love ya, bye!" it wouldn't have come out. Her mom didn't work that way. It was always business, all of the time. Being an author inclined her to live anywhere she wanted. Gabriella's mother's ambitions always seemed to be above her own daughter.

Having a job that allows you to live anywhere, and everywhere, in the world takes a toll on your family. But her mother didn't seem to care. Veronica had never been around much; she was only ever home long enough to write an international best-seller and that was it. But while she was home, those were the best times of Gabriella's life. At night, when Veronica wasn't hurriedly typing up pages, she would spend time with her only child. It all was quick to end once she finished her After it was published, that was it.

Considering her mother had written over fifty novels, Gabriella had gotten into the feel of things; her mother's work pattern.

Veronica would be around for about a month. Never really taking the time to even acknowledge her child, for she was busy with book finalizing and ruff drafts.

The next month, two at the latest, was the time Gabriella came to cherish the most. This was when her mother and her had long late night talks about everything that came to mind. Drifting conversation topics from favorite cookie dough, to favorite vacation spots.

Gabriella always felt that those months were the ones that went by much too quickly. Because by the time it was all over, she knew she wouldn't see Veronica for months at a time. Phone calls were their only real connection. Her mother may have just turned forty, but that didn't stop her from 'clubbing.'

Since she could remember, Gabriella had always been in the obedient care of a nanny, or a babysitter. But the day she turned fifteen, that was it. No more nannies, nor babysitters. It was just her and whatever big empty house they were living in at the time. Or rather, _Gabriella _was living it at that time. Although, over the years she had grown accustomed to her family patterns. It was ordinary.

The bells on the hallway clock, striking eight, were what snapped her back to reality. Her body tossed onto the couch, ruffling the pillows, as she laid her head on the armrest. A breath she had known herself to be holding slipped pasted her lips, floating into the air.

"It's always a good thing to be fashionably late." she declared, to herself.

Desperately needing something to pass the time, her mind carried off to Troy.

Did she like him? Didn't she like him?

Could she like him? Would she like him?

His tempered side, his cruel side, his frosted side, and his sweet side.

Was that even possible? Could he even have a sweet side?

_Sure anyone could...can – right?_ she though, diligently to herself.

"No." she announced, firmly to herself as she stood up and glanced into the mirror by the front door. "You're only going to get hurt. He uses girls like ponds in a game of chess." A deep breath went in and quickly exhaled. "You will not fall for him. You will not like him. And you surely will not... _love_... him." The word was hard and seemed to scratch her throat as it released itself. "Too late." were her final, departing words.

The ringing of the clock, this time striking nine, is what wearied her out of her mind's tight grasp. She smiled, pleased with her work as she walked out of her house, locking the front door behind her. It was a cool night and as she stepped down off the front porch, she wished she had a jacket.

Her mind set itself on walking to Johnny's, where the party was being held. She stomped down the road, arriving around nine-fifteen, to a house already packed with drunken teenagers. She sighed.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea anyway.

Dismissing her second thoughts, she walked into the house; only to be rightfully greeted by everyone around her.

"Gabriella!" someone yelled.

"Gabriella's here!" another person shouted, high above the music.

Her named carried out through the house as if there were an echo. She shrugged, wondering how everyone suddenly knew who she was. She made her way through the house, into the kitchen. All around her were people dancing, kissing, drinking, and even singing.

She spotted Troy and yearned to go talk to him, but true to her word, she kept her distance as her eyes followed him stagger through the living room, illusively drunk.

"Hey-ey-ey..." she heard someone slur, turning around to come face to face with Aaron, the East High quarter back. "Bee-eer?" he grabbled, waving a red Solo cup in her face.

"No thanks." she responded, watching him stare her up and down. This was definitely not her thing, a drunken house party. But inside, she begged to let lose and let go for a while. "Actually, I take that back. Why not?" Her hand reached for the cup. From then on, everything was a blur. After she had downed her first beer, she kept going. Soaking her problems away in a plastic cup. Before she knew it, she was on her ninth Solo cup – her twelfth beer.

From afar, two piercing blue eyes watched her intently. He laughed, seeing her stumble through the party with all of the other drunks. It was strange to see her not simply pristine, but completely wasted. Troy had been watching her, attentively since she had first arrived. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he needed to. It was almost twelve, as he saw her pushing her way through to the door.

She stopped, looking in his direction, then shrugged and bumped into Johnny, the house's original resident. He saw her muster something a long the lines of "I have to go" and realized it was his turn to have some fun. Another girl pounced on him, whispering in his ear. He had been brushing girls off of him all night long and figured it was time for himself to let go. It was, after all, what he was known for. Other than back-talking, beating guys up, and controlling everything with the wave of a hand, seemingly getting 'drunk' and having sex with the first girl that walked up to him was just another piece to the puzzle.

He didn't even ask for a name before they were feverishly kissing on the couch. She was pulling at his black leather jacket, which he had failed to take off, as he pulled her up the stairs. She had red hair and was hot enough for one night, whether he would feel guilty in the morning or not, it didn't matter. He never had before, but as they embarked toward the nearest bedroom he couldn't help but feel bad.

It wasn't like him to have the sudden feel of guilt churning in his stomach, he never had it before. Why would he now? Second thoughts ran through his mind as he swung the door open. The redhead's moans concealed the noise coming from the back, not to mention that he was so caught up in his thoughts, he couldn't hear the people groaning in the background... _behind _him.

He pulled away, helping the girl with her shirt, that's when he heard it.

"Dude, do you mind?" someone said from aback.

His head shot around to see the bed already taken, or rather almost taken. He scanned the room quickly, taking note of the boy. Brown short hair, no shirt. And then the girl, dark curly hair, dark skin, no shirt...

"Montez?" he yelled, making the redhead jump. Gabriella sighed and mumbled a 'go away' but that wasn't going to stop him. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, while his blood seethed inside of him. Before another word was spoken, the shirtless guy, who had been on top of Gabriella, was down, pinned on the floor, having the snot beat out of him – literally.

He pulled the boy to his feet, menacingly glaring at him.

"Listen up!" he shouted, "Lay one finger on her and I'll kill you. Easy as that." The boy, clenched tightly in Troy's grasp, nodded attentively. Whether he was drunk of not, he knew not to mess around with one of Troy's commands. The kid nodded and was released, running feebly or drunkenly away.

Troy walked over to the bed and sat down next to Gabriella. Who now, that he got a good look at her, was half naked. Her skirt was somewhere on the floor, mixed in the room with that boy's pants and her shirt. He sat there, staring at her, for quite a while. That churning feeling rumbled in the pit of his stomach as he removed his jacket and placed it over top of her small body.

_She's pracitically naked, and you... _you _feel guilty!?_ he thought to himself.

"Tr-r-oy?" she stuttered, her breath stale with beer.

"Come on, I'll take you home." he said but she didn't respond. "Did you drive?" This time she shook her head. "Can you walk...or even stand?" She laughed, or grumbled he wasn't quite sure but she stood up nonetheless, the jacket falling to the floor as she staggered over to the door. He grabbed his jacket and ran in front of her, stopping her from going any further. He held it up, over her uncovered body. "Um, no. Put your clothes on first."

She stumbled back over to the bed, collapsing against it. He sighed and picked up her clothes, tossing her shirt and then her skirt. At first, she blundered trying to put her clothes on. Establishing her skirt, though backwards, it was still on. Now it was her shirt, which seemed to be more troubling for her since she couldn't figure out what to do with it.

He couldn't help but grin, a dry chuckle sealed out too. Sirens whirled in the distance as blue and red lights sparkled from the front yard.

"Shit." he mustered, hurriedly scrambling over to her.

She giggled, fervidly a broad smile wiping her face while childishly muttering, "It's the cops!" His hands guided the shirt over her head and her eyes wiggled between open and close. He then slid his leather jacket over her arms.

"Let's go." He pulled her up by her hand and walked her to the back door. Police scattered through the house, declaring that the party was over and everyone should go home. She mumbled something under her breath, he second guessed himself and decided not to ask what it was, figuring she wouldn't remember anyway.

He slid her into the passenger side of her car, crossed the seatbelt over her chest, and drove to her house. On foot it was fifteen minutes, but by car, he parked on the curb in five. All the while, she mumbled something repeatedly. Unaware that there was no one in the house, Troy questioned where her room was and that he would carry her up to her bedroom window.

"Noooo..." she stuttered, "My mom's never home, tr-trust me. This time's no different." Sadness replaced her drunken happiness quickly with the mention of her mother. Troy nodded, and shuffled around the front door for a spare key. "There's a hidden space in that flower pot." she mumbled, sitting down on the bench caddy-corner the front door as she grasped the jacket. Within in minutes he had the front door open, and Gabriella stumbled behind him.

"You don't drink much, do you?" He asked, though made it more of a statement than a question. Afore she could let what he said dawn on her, she passed out landing only a few feet in front of the door. "You don't drink at all." he declared under his breath, tossing her over his shoulder as he carried her to her room and laid her down on the bed. He removed the leather jacket from her arms, laying it at the bottom of her bed. He took another quick glimpse of her sleeping form. Backwards skirt, crooked shirt and all. His hands brought the blanket up to her chin and then he turned around to leave, but was caught when she grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed. Her eyes flickered open in a pleading sort of way as she frowned, their faces inches apart.

"Don't go." Her voice was suddenly timid and sad, he felt a stirring feeling roll in his stomach. Without warning or fair notice, her lips were crashed against his own.

Minutes later he found himself seated next to her bed in her purple desk chair. His head was rested on the back of the chair while his body slouched down in the seat. She rolled over facing him, commoting from her light sleep. "I love you." she muttered, under her breath as she tossed over on her back. His jaw dropped and his breathing hitched in his throat.

"Wh-what?" It was him, this time, who stuttered.

She faced him once more. Her eyes closed and her arms folded. "I... love... you." The words were spaced a few seconds apart, and slurred to a point, but she annunciated more than clearly.

He heard every word. Or three to be exact.


	9. Chapter Nine

A/N: read and review!

**CHAPTER NINE**

Her eyes sprung open as sunshine leaked in through her bedroom windows, greeting her more cheerfully than she would've liked. A pillow was what she used to conceal her eyes from the bright light. But a thin, feathery pillow could not protect her head from the throbbing sensation that whizzed around inside of it. Her hands gripped her temples, rubbing them vigorously in circles as the mental tornado thrashing through her head strengthened instead of weakened.

Much to her dismay, a loud shrill spinning noise, that of a blender, swam through her ears. Forcing the pounding in her head to pulsate even worse. She flipped her legs over the side of the bed, ready to investigate. Pushing the blankets a side her eyes caught view of a black leather jacket delicately laid at the edge of her bed.

She slowly stumbled to her bedroom door, finding it closed, just as the previous nights occurrences came floating back to her. Not in specific detail, but certain events she remembered clearly.

Softly, with her hands placed roughly over her ears, she made her way down to the kitchen only to come face to face with the boy standing at the blender. Her eyes blinked once, than twice, finally subsiding when she fell to the stool next to the kitchen island.

"Here." he said, softly but with much a authority as he handed her a tall glass filled to the top with a slushy pink froth. "It'll get rid of the hangover."She looked up at him, her eyes questioning. "It's dedrunkitizer, just drink it."

"Dedrunkitizer?" she questioned, one eyebrow raised as a giggle swirled through her mouth.

Her lips met the glass but she hesitated drinking it, stopping just before the substance entered her mouth. "It's not drugged, I swear." She smiled, grimly finding that her face muscles ached when she did so.

"I was just going to say thank you." she answered, taking a large gulp. It was sweet, smoothing her tongue over with a tingly vibe, filled with fruit-flavored goodness. "Um... about last night...?" she mumbled into the glass, pulling it away and placing it down on the counter.

His eyes widened as his heart paced irregularly, he took a deep breath and quickly calmed. "No need to explain you–" She stopped him before he could finish, luckily or not.

"_Explain_? No, I was just wondering what happened." she paused, taking another sip, "Wait. Why would I need to explain? We didn't... or I didn't..." she mumbled off the last few words, wondering how she could make it sound less vulgar then it did.

He shrugged, realizing she wasn't talking about the same thing he was. "What? Uh, no." he said, shaking his head accordingly. "I think you were gonna sleep with," he paused momentarily, thinking of the boys name, "that Perkins kid, but you didn't. If that's what you're asking?"

"Yeah, alright. Um, then," She paused, eyeing her glass of tastefulness. "Why are you here?"

"You asked–" He stopped suddenly, as something inside of him pleaded that he shouldn't tell her she had asked him to stay. But then something else inside of him was yelling at him to not say that he wanted to stay. "You asked me to stay." He decided, foiling for the truth.

"Oh." Awkward silence drifted through the air, making both Troy and Gabriella very uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, I better go." he stated, rubbing the back of his neck. He shrugged off the awkward feeling, heading for the door. She grabbed her glass and quickly hurried after him. Her head vibrating with each step. She watched him carefully as he stepped down off the porch and paced to the driveway.

"Troy?" Her voice was quiet and weary.

"Hmm?" he asked, his head perching up as he opened his car door.

"Thank you. A lot." she smiled through her hangover and her eyes glistened. "For everything. I owe you one, really... I do."

He nodded, saying that it was no big deal. Within seconds his car was out of the driveway and halfway down her street. She sighed, closing the front door and walking back inside. As she swallowed the last drop of whatever effervescence had once existed within the walls of her glass, she felt her migraine subsiding to where she could see clearly. She smiled brightly once more and trotted up to her room.

A quick shower, a fresh change of clothes, and another glass of Troy's amazing 'dedrunkitizer' juice, she was good as new, though still exhuasted. She came back up to her room, after finishing another glass, and plopped down on her bed. Finding herself rather tired, she was taken over by sleep.

Her nap brought memories of the night before in the form of a dream. She tossed in her sleep as her dream reached it's highest and worst point.

"_I l-love you." she muttered, under her breath as she tossed over on her back. His jaw dropped and his breathing hitched in his throat._

"_Wh-what?" he had said, clearly taken aback._

_She faced him once more. Her eyes closed and her arms folded. "I... love... you." _

"Omigod!" she yelled, springing up from her delusion. "I didn't. I couldn't have. No. _No. _It was just a dream. Dream. Just a dream." she paused, forcing herself to believe it was just that. But in the back of her mind, she remembered it all too clearly. "Do you?" she asked herself aloud. "No Gabriella. You haven't even known him for a week. Love doesn't work that way." She sighed, hiding from the truth.

She shook it off, shuddering at the thought. As she reeled over, her foot rubbed against a smooth, cold surface. She sat up, looking down to the bottom of her bed. Troy's black leather jacket lay neatly across her comforter. She stood up and reached for it, smelling the collar.

An 'Mmm' escaped her lips as she sucked in his distinctive scent. Her hands dropped the jacket suddenly, as if it had burst into flames.

"Dammit." she mumbled, collapsing on her bed. Her thoughts aberrated between taking it to his house, and giving it to him at school the next day. Her mind begged to take it to him now. Call Taylor, get directions to Troy's house. But calling Taylor would rebust into questions. Questions Gabriella couldn't find it in herself to answer, truthfully at least. She sighed, running a finger through one individual curl of hair. Her eyes closed as she laid back down on the bed.

Her hand mindlessly dialed Taylor's number, and waited for her to answer.

One ring, two rings, three, four–

"Hello?"

"Taylor!" she hummed, overjoyed.

"Hey, Gabby. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you knew where Troy Bolton lives..." her voice trailed off as she prepared herself.

"What? Why?" Taylor bounded, filled to the rim with curiosity.

Gabriella paused, establishing what she thought to be a full-proof fib. "He has my English book and I have to write that term paper. Without the book, I'm screwed!" she sighed, smiling behind it all. Hoping and praying that her facade had fooled Taylor.

"Oh, bummer. Yeah, just give me a sec." Within minutes Taylor had given Gabriella complete directions to Troy's house and they said their 'good-byes.' A sigh slipped out as Gabriella slipped her phone shut. It worked and Taylor wasn't the least bit suspicions.

With the leather jacket in hand, Gabriella read over his address once more.

"Four-thirteen Peachmont... four-thirteen... Peachmont." she stopped as she locked her front door. "Peachmont?!" she said once more, this time her voice was soaked in disbelief. Her mind bobbled off as she glided down the sidewalk. "He lives down the street?" she murmured in shock, standing directly outside of a tan colored house with a red tin roof. Gold numbers clearly reading, "413" were shimmering in the sun light. Typical New Mexico style.

Gathering up all of the courage and confidence inside of her, she headed up the driveway, one very slow step at a time. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. But before she could reach the front porch, Troy came storming out, slamming the white wooden front door behind him. He stomped down off the porch and to his car, noticing her a long the way.

"Get in." he ordered, fiercely with no second judgements.

"What?" she asked, obviously caught off-guard.

"Get in the damn car." His voice was cold and rigid. His eyes flashed with anger she had never seen, nor did she want to see. Without another thought, she opened the passenger's side door and hopped in, crossing the buckle over her chest.

He pulled out of the driveway, and down Peachmont with enough power to make Gabriella cling to the handle attached to the door with all of her strength. Reaching the end of the road, he slowed down lessening his force on the accelerator. His hands squeezed the steering wheel with such stamina his knuckles turned white.

Gabriella consistantly glanced at him, hoping he would answer her unspoken question as to where they were going. But no one spoke for twenty long minutes. They were pulling up to the Albuquerque limits when Troy finally said something.

"If you wanna go, I'll take you home. You don't have to come with me." he said, empty without any emotion. Even the mangled anger had seemed to dissolve. He didn't even look her way. His eyes were intently focused on the road.

She didn't even think about it before she said, "No. I'm staying."

Nothing else was said as they entered the second hour of their trip. Still, Gabriella had know idea where they were going but left her trust in Troy. Hoping he wouldn't get her killed. As the clock rolled to half past five, she exhaled deeply, wondering if this was such a good idea after all.

Only a few minutes later Troy stopped the car on the edge of a canyon, inside a vast river roared on by.

She looked at Troy with curiosity milking through her eyes. He turned his head in her direction, his face still an empty vat of emotion. But as she looked into his eyes, she knew the anger was still there.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking out onto the river. For the first time she noted it's beauty. The colors were bright and breathtaking. Bright orange combining with reds and yellows; the sun was setting just above the canyon, further past the deep blue river giving the air a sultry mood. The greenery of bushes and dark emerald spruce trees complimented the rocks and soil around them. She smiled at the beauty, looking out onto the horizon.

This place reminded her of the balcony high above the school, but it was bigger and much more open.

"White Rock, New Mexico." he said, cooly. His eyes were focused on the sun when she looked over at him. The bright sunny colors bounced off his eyes, covering them in smooth anger. "You're looking at the Rio Grande River."

"It's beautiful." she exclaimed, looking back towards the canyon. She stepped closer to the edge, looking down at the river. Rocks slid under her with a tiny avalanche. Her feet were slipping off the edge as her blood filled with adrenaline. But before she could plunge off the cliff to her utter doom, his hands glided under her arms supporting her or rather catching her.

Her eyes seemed to say 'thank you' when he looked at her. The sun sparkled off of her skin, making her face shine even brighter than it's usual. They stood there for quite some time, an eternity to say the least. His hands strongly rested just below her shoulders with her finger tips barely grazing his waist. The sunset sparkled off both of their eyes, coruscating like stars. She smiled, her head voided without thoughts.

And then for the second time, he smiled. Not a full smile, or one that seemed the slightest bit natural, but a half-twisted lop-sided smile that made her laugh silently.

His hands dropped from her shoulders and hers fell to her sides, crossing over her chest.

"Why did we come here?" she asked, looking back down at the river.

"To think." he said, aloof. She wanted to ask what he was thinking about, but under her better judgement, decided not to. Only shrugging, and enjoying the sunset. Merely fifteen minutes later, the sky was dark and stars sparkled above them. "C'mon, I should get you home." Running a hand through his hair, the amused thrill or more quite an annoyance slipped back into his eyes as the anger seemed to fade away.

"Troy...?" she spoke quietly, before getting into the car.

"Yeah?"

"When I went to your house..." She paused, intricately sighing. "You were mad, really mad. More mad than I've ever seen you, or anyone for that matter." She stopped once more, looking directly at him as they stood in front of his car. "Are you okay?"

He looked at her, up and down. Firstly noticing his leather jacket tightly grasped in her hands. A smirk crossed his face, as he tried to regain his composure. But as she dredged up the hours previous to them, anger boared inside of him. She noted it in his eyes. No longer were they bright indignant blue, but now they seemed to be overcast with red rage.

Taking a deep breath, he held it in. Trying his best not to blow up right there on the spot. "Stealing my jacket?" he asked, calmly this time. But still, she noted the anger.

"Avoiding my question?"

He hopped into his car, and for the next two hours nothing was said. No sighs were cast and no awkward glances were exchanged. Four eyes, two blue; two brown, focused strongly on the road before them. As the cars past by, thoughts seemed to pass by with them. No more bad feelings for the time, no more arguing. Hate was brought down with the sunset and now they sat there in complete silence.

Her left hand shifted over to where his right hand lay. She carefully, and rather delicately, placed it on top of his hand. Giving him a soft squeeze of assurance, he looked over at her. His eyes glistening with anger, she smiled softly.

"Whatever happened, you can tell me. I'll listen." She smiled once more, as his gaze went back to the road. "And I even promise not to use it against you later."

He squeezed back this time, intertwining their fingers together. Still not a word came out of him. But she understood. She understood completely.


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N: yeah, I know. I'm bad. Sorrrrry, I don't think I thank you all enough. :)

**CHAPTER TEN**

When she walked into school the next morning, people all around her were whispering. But as per usual, she didn't pay much attention to the little conversations roaming around her. Although if she would have given her peers the time of day, she would have been quick to realize the star of this week's rumor-mill was in awe; herself.

She shut her locker and headed down the hallway to home room, receiving piercing eyes of jealousy from every cheerleader she bypassed. Before she could cross the threshold into Mrs. Darbus' room, someone stopped her.

His muscular hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him. Gabriella looked up into his bright forest eyes, dumbfounded. His hands wrapped around her waist and slid down further than she would've liked.

"Do you need something?" she asked, pushing off of him and stepping back.

"This weekend, if your not busy, after the game or something I thought maybe we could..." he winked, seductively. And then it clicked. "... you know." He smirked, and her mouth dropped in shock.

"Are you insane?" she said, as more of a statement than anything else. He replied with a snide remark that made her insides churn in utter repulsion and disgust. She trudged into home room and fell to her desk. Slamming her head into her arms, she sighed. Everything and everyone around her was ignored.

During first period, a note landed on her desk. She looked around, searching for his owner when her eyes landed on a boy with brown, shaggy hair. Gabriella knew she had seen him before, but couldn't put her finger on it. He grinned, suggestively, gesturing to the note as if he was ordering her to open it.

_My house? Around five?_

_Maybe we could hook-up._

_-Jason_

"What the–?" she mumbled, looking back over at him with disgust etched on her face. He must've not noticed and when the bell rang, she ran out of the room before anyone else.

As she walked down the hallway, the boys around her whistled and howled. She never once took the time to look up from the ground, her determination to get through the rest of the day without being molested was a goal she was sure she would reach. During second period, she had been thrown multitudes of notes – all suggesting the same thing.

When third period rolled to an end, Gabriella was tossed another note. This time it was pink, and written in girly handwriting. The "I's" were all dotted with hearts, smiley faces, and stars. She groaned softly at the sight, her stomach swirling when she noticed who the note was from.

Sharpay Evans: Drama queen, and the school's designated 'slut.'

She sighed, wondering if she should read it. But the suspense became too much as she flung it open, revealing words she would've never thought to be directed at her.

_You dirty little skank!_

Gabriella turned it over, back and forth. Mentally hoping it would have 'JUST KIDDING!' boldly written on the back. But as she tossed it over, front to back, once more, no 'Psych!' was revealed; no 'You've just been Punk'd'; nothing. She exhaled, depressingly, crumbling it up and trashing it when the bell rang.

Forth period was no better than first, second, or third. Boys were hitting on her, aggressively, and girls were taunting her. By fifth period, she learned to ignore every note that came her way. She focused, or at least tried to, on her studies. Staring intently at the board, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

"Miss Montez?" she heard, looking up to see her English teacher standing before her. "Nice of you to join us."

She grinned, already embarrassed enough as it was.

When the bell ending sixth period roared high above the students, Gabriella found herself hiding out in the girls bathroom. She didn't care that she was cutting lunch. It wasn't important and she wasn't hungry. As she sat, leaning against the bathroom sinks, Taylor appeared behind her. Gabriella jumped, caught off-guard by her friend's sudden appearance.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" Taylor sulted, staring her down with angry eyes. "I've been throwing note after note at you all morning long, and you never even looked my way."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just..." Gabriella paused, turning around to face the mirror. "The notes I've been getting today are insane! Cheerleaders are calling me a whore, and football players are asking me to have sex with them. Since when did I become East Highs' hooker? I haven't even been here for a damn month!" she fumed, forming a fist with her left hand.

"Yah, that's what I want to talk to you about. That's what all my notes said." Taylor paused, waiting for Gabriella to catch on but she never did. Instead, she turned around, oblivious to the whole thing. "I can't believe you didn't tell me! I was at your house on Saturday. I know we haven't known each other that long, but I still consider you one of my good friends. I would've told you..." She stopped, once again. Still waiting rather impatiently for Gabriella to hop aboard.

"Taylor, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You and Troy! Everyone knows you slept with him. You guys spent the whole freaking weekend together! Sharpay Evans saw him taking you home Sunday night. And I saw him leaving Saturday. Chad said he saw him take you home Saturday night after the party." Taylor sighed, staring at Gabriella; who's mouth had fallen to the floor. "You could've told me, I would've understood. Sure, I can't stand Troy. But still." Taylor rambled on, leaving Gabriella breathless and in shock.

She could barely stand as she forced herself to take a hold of the situation.

"Wait. Stop. Stop everything! You think I slept with... _Bolton_?" Taylor nodded. "No!" she yelled, repeating the same thing over and over again.

The end of ninth period was signaled with a ringing blare. Gabriella grabbed her books and threw them into her locker, ignoring everyone around her. She knew, now, what they were talking about. She knew, now, who they were talking about. And she wasn't the least bit impressed.

She marched down the hallway, enraged with acrimony and disgust. She had to talk to him, right now, right here. It was free period and she knew exactly where he would be and that was exactly where she was going.

The gym door slammed open revealing an open court packed with players running drills and plays. She stood there for thirty minutes, watching him glance up every so often. Finally Troy looked up, acknowledging her presence standing there. The vexation written on her face was enough to make him nervous. Gabriella took one step into the gym and stomped down the rest. Shoving aside the other players, she stared at Troy with exasperation.

"You." she yelled, pointing towards him. He tossed the basketball to the player next to him, and slowly approached her. "We need to talk."

He raised his eyebrows, dubious to what was going on as he followed her into the locker room.

They stood there, surrounded by red lockers and red benches. Her back was turned to him as she bottled up the anger inside of her. And then it exploded. She popped.

Her fist pounded down against his cheek, taking him aback. She brought herself aimlessly closer to him, watching him raise a hand to his cheek. Her eyes squinted with menacing lust. He knew she was mad, but wasn't sure as to what had made her this mad.

The rest of the team had gathered around them, standing only a few feet from where they were. Gabriella took it upon herself to hit him again, harder this time. She slapped him just seconds later. And when she went to hit him once more, she found herself detained by a boy with curly brown hair, much taller than she. His arms had a good grasp on her waist and as she went to hit Troy again, her body was raised into the air. Her feet were lifted off the ground and her hair was dangling in front of her face.

She stopped, regaining her composure and spoke, softly at first but then it turned into a loud yell.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she blared, swishing the long brown locks out of her eyes. "You son of a bitch!" Troy's eyes narrowed, his forehead scrunched.

"What is wrong with _me_? You just fucking attacked me and your asking if I have a problem?" he shouted back, angered inside. But it wasn't malicious anger that succumbed inside of him, it was lustful anger that made him pleased and oddly turned on.

"Put me down!" she yelled, staring at the boy holding her in the air. Troy nodded, watching as Chad released her from his grip.

"Get out – run a few laps around the school." Troy ordered, directing his attention to his teammates. They nodded and exited the locker room one by one. "Now, what are you talking about?"

"You!" Gabriella yelled, stepping closer to him. "You told everyone we had sex, you mother–"

"What? No I didn't." he interrupted, suddenly desirous of her fiery temper.

"Don't you lie to me! I know you did."

"I swear, I didn't." he reassured, placing his case. "I might not be the most truthful guy at East High, but I'm not going to lie about sleeping with you."

"That's bull!"

"Gabriella, seriously. Do you think I would do that?" Her name coming through his voice made her knees buckle. She sighed, looking up at him. His eyes pure with sincerity. She shook her head.

"Maybe not."

"If I wanted to sleep with you, I would've Saturday night when you were wasted, laying on some bed, naked." he stated, smirking with amusement.

"You jerk!" she yelled, taking another step towards him. There faces were an inch apart as she glared at him with the ut most ferocity. Her hand met the side of his face with one barely grazing blow.

"You bitch." he said, cooly. Glaring back with the same amount of ruthlessness.

"You're a disgusting, horny teenage boy, just like the rest of them!" she shouted.

"Oh, please. You're just mad because you missed your chance."

"What chance?" she screamed as he took a step towards her. He towered her with a good six inches, but she wasn't intimidated. "You don't honestly believe I want to sleep with you?"

He let out a wispy chuckle, sultry and debonair. He smirked, the unforgettable famous Troy Bolton smirk, and exhaled. His breath tickling her cheeks with it's warm, minty touch. "You know you want me."

"Don't be so sure of yourself, Bolton. You're a sickening pig who wants nothing more than a girl to screw and a kid to pound into the floor."

"You think you have me figured out, don't you?" he shouted, making her feel unpowered.

"I can say the same for you!" she bellowed, her voice quivered as he took a step backwards, leaving a gap in between them.

"You don't have me figured out, Montez. You don't know shit about me."

"Are you kidding? You're the predictable bad boy. Totally cliché. Nothing ever happens with you that isn't predictable. You think with your fist, not your brain; easy as that." she fumed, knocking on his forehead with her fist.

"Oh yeah? I'm predictable?" She nodded, her own nervousness surfacing.

"Yeah. You are!" she balled, "Horrid, gruesome, predictable, hostile–"

Before she could continue with her insult, his lips were attacking hers. His arms wrapped around her waist, strengthening as he pulled her close. She held back at first, but quickly melted against him. Her hands made their way to the back of his neck, surrounding his back and making their way back up to his neck. She found her fingers tangled in his hair as their kiss deepened.

He pulled away, breathless. A smirk wiping his face as he spoke, rigidly.

"Still predictable?" he questioned, his eyes calming.

"Yeah." she said in a whisper, pushing him against the locker while her lips met his. She could feel him smirk into the kiss and she pulled away. "What?"

"You can't resist me."

"You conceited, low-life asshole!" she said, her hand smashing across his left cheek making a 'smack' noise with the blow. He didn't answer, his mouth collided against hers. He kept his hands firmly mounted on the sides of her waist, as she let her hands explore his back. She moved them from around his neck to down his back, sliding them comfortably onto his sides. "...um?" she spoke, pulling away from him. Her hands still smoothly placed around his torso. She didn't know what to say, and from the look in his eyes she assumed he didn't know either.

"...So, that was fun." he answered, pushing himself off of her and heading back to the gym, shaking his head.

She stood there, dazed and confused, for quite some time. Finally when the tenth period bell rang, she peeled out of the locker room and marched to her car. Fumbling with her keys, she leaned against the door and sighed.

"This won't happen! I won't _let _it happen!!" she mustered, hopping into her car and heading home.


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N: enjoy!  
A/N2: Ok, so me in all of my cold pill glory somehow managed to cut out an entire paragraph. I fixed it, so sorry if part of it didn't make sense! Hah, thanks Mari :)

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

The rest of the week was like walking on eggshells for Gabriella. She tried her hardest to avoid Troy, but she knew couldn't avoid him forever. It was already Thursday, and she had been rather lucky so far.

When they would pass each other in the hallway, her head would droop down; her eyes casting their gaze on the hard tiled floor. When he would call her name, or rather her _last _name, she would ignore him and head in a different direction. And when he would approach her or stalk out at her locker, just waiting for her to show, she would run, and hide in the garden balcony, waiting until she was positive the coast was clear.

There was no way she was going to let him get to her, even though somewhere inside she knew it was too late.

He had already gotten to her, and she had fallen – harder than she ever wanted to.

But what her heart wanted, didn't matter. Her mind was positive that if she let herself get any deeper, she would almost surely end up crushed. It was, after all, Troy Bolton. The same old Troy Bolton who used girls to get what he wanted and then disposed of them like garbage. The same Troy Bolton who would rather resolve a conflict through violence than actually talking it out.

She heard the rumors about him and his reputation. She heard and occasionally witnessed girls throwing themselves at him. It was impossible to go to school and have a completely Troy-free day. Whether she saw him or not, she would still overhear people talking about him.

And with all of the things they would say, it was clear he wasn't going to change. She was sure of it.

No matter how much she wanted to like him, maybe even love him – she knew she couldn't.

It would just end up in misery, and she didn't have the time to mend a broken heart. It simply was not worth it.

When the bell signaled the beginning of tenth period, Gabriella sighed. A small smile grazed her lips as she rushed to her locker. It was free period and she was determined on hiding in the library for the rest of the day.

Hurrying to grab her belongings and make a clean escape, she felt eyes piercing the back of her head. She sighed, slowly turning around begging that they didn't belong to who she knew they did.

A thrill of amusement sprung across his face while his lips swirled into a pleased smirk as he stood up. Gabriella made no excuses when noticing it. "You better wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you!" she wailed.

"Is that a threat?" he questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"You better bet it is."

"Miss Montez, Mr. Bolton! Quiet down, this is a hallway!" Mrs. Darbus ordered, appearing out of no where, but both ignored her command.

"Bring it on, Montez."

"Oh, it's been on since the day I came to East High. You and your bad boy disposition have been after me since I sat in your seat." He said nothing, merely stood there wide-eyed with amusement. "Well, for your information, Mr. Bolton, it's been brought."

"Really?" he mallored, standing before her.

"That's enough! My classroom, now!" Mrs. Darbus bellowed.

They stomped, following the drama teacher to her room. Troy was the first to sit down, and Gabriella made sure she was as far away from him as possible. The air was filled with musty confinement whilst ruthless antagonizing rage echoed from each wall. No one said a word, Mrs. Darbus sat in her 'throne' and stared at the two teenagers with bewilderment.

"I suggest you two settle your problems, unless you want a detention...?" Mrs. Darbus said, wiggling her eyebrows for dramatic effect.

There was another long silence. The clock ticking by slower than ever.

"Why are you such a jerk? Do you get pleasure from putting down other people?" Gabriella challenged, breaking the muggy silence.

No reply.

"Come on, I know you have something arrogant to say! You always do." she stated, sure of herself, and him.

"Alright then," Troy began after a long pause, "Do _you _get pleasure from harassing _me _with sarcastic bitchy remarks?"

"How come you always turn the question around onto me? You can never answer anything clearly. It's always question after question with you. God dammit, Bolton, widen your vocabulary!" she professed, her voice in a high-pitched angry shout.

"And you don't do the same?" he said, turning another answer into a question. Though all the while, maintaining his amused scowl and relaxed tone of voice.

"That's enough! From the both of you." Mrs. Darbus belatedly chimed in. "You two bicker like an old, rotten married couple! Now get out of my sight!"

They stared at her, then at each other and hurried out of the room. Walking out the door, they both turned their separate ways.

As Troy headed for the big red doors leading to the gym, he was hollered at by a familiar voice.

"Listen up,_ Troy Bolton_," Gabriella emphasized disgustedly, stomping in his direction, "I know you could careless about anyone but your vainglorious, egotistical, arrogant, cocky self but–" She couldn't say another word as his hand squeezed against her mouth.

"Use another adjective and I'll–" This time it was her that cut him off.

"And you'll what? Deck me like you do with everyone else? Well, kid," she said, gaining all of her self-control and bellowed loudly into his face, "that's not how it's going to work." As he began to walk away, it was her that slammed him against the wall. Her small arms forcing his muscular ones against the bricks that made up East High.

Though it was completely obvious to the both of them that Troy could abandon her grasp with the flick of an eyelash, he didn't. He held his ground, her hands against his arms.

"We're not done yet..." she paused, looking into his clouded eyes. "I'm not as ignorant as everyone else, here. And there is no way I'll ever hail your every move like the rest of this florescent Hell hole. You don't fool me, Troy and don't even begin to think you ever will." she announced, then quickly stormed off. Leaving behind a dazed Troy who suddenly sprung from his position against the wall.

"Wait!" he called out, running after her. They stopped when Gabriella reached the doors to the library.

"What?"

He didn't answer, at least not vocally. Before she had a chance to think or resist, his hands were around her waist, pressing her against the wall. His mouth attacking hers with such force her knees went weak, but he quickly caught her. It was then that she regretted confronting him.

This was exactly what she didn't want.

But no matter how much her mind didn't want it, her heart did. And that's what left her standing there, clenched in his grasp, aimlessly kissing back.

He settled himself, pushing her body against the glass of the door. His tongue pried her mouth open when she gasped at his roughness. His hands slid themselves into the back pockets of her jeans while her hands snugly wrapped around his neck, toying with his hair.

He slowed for a minute, pausing to pull away. His eyes met hers as his mouth found it's way to her neck. Pushing the hair away from it with his nose, he left a trail of kisses from her collarbone to her chin.

Then suddenly, she had regained all of her strength. She gripped his shoulders with all that she had and shoved him off of her. He smirked, his breath ragged.

"I can't do this. I won't do this!" she said, heading in a different direction.

He reached for her arm, pulling her back to him. Her body slammed against his, a quiet 'Hmpf' escaping her breath on impact. She exhaled deeply and took in another breath.

His lips launched at hers, but she quickly turned away. Landing against her ear, he smirked pressing himself against her. His warm breath tingled against her neck as she held onto him for support, not wanting to collapse. Surrounding her petite waist with his arms, he whispered into her ear.

"Give it up, Montez."

"You just stuck your tongue down my throat and we're _still _on a last name basis, eh, _Bolton_?"

He let out a short forced chuckle and smirked, pleased of his accomplishments one way or another. No response was needed when his face fell centimeters away from hers. His breath tickled her nose causing her to wrinkle it in displeasure.

The smallest twitch of her nose was enough to send him into overdrive. He couldn't hold it in a longer as a genuine smile crossed his lips. As usual, it was small and barely noticeable. But Gabriella did, indeed, notice; replying with her own cheeky smile. There eyes caught gaze with one another, as imaginary sparks shot up around them.

Their very first 'moment' was sadly interrupted by the ringing of Gabriella's phone. She sighed, stepping away from him and pulling out her phone, she quickly checked the caller identification. In clearly lit black letters it simply read, "Mom's Cell." Knowing this was probably her only chance to talk to her mother until she came home for Christmas, even they she probably wouldn't get a chance, she exhaled.

"Sorry." she answered, walking further down the hallway and sitting on a bench. She flipped open her phone and took a deep breath, "Mom?"

Troy stood there, simply staring at her. Memorizing the way her lips moved as she talked, the way her jaw moved with every word. Her voice was sweet, but he could tell she was upset. And it wasn't the same upset tone she used with him. No, this one was more distressed, much more of a sad upset than an angered upset.

He kept staring googly eyed, still intrigued by her moving lips and dainty jaw. He brought his gaze further up, reaching the top of her face. Her forehead scrunched as he saw her eyes fill with tears.

Something was, obviously, not right.

"Alright." Pause. "No, I understand. It's your job, work comes first." Pause. "Yes, mom. I will." A single tear slid down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. Slamming her phone shut, she slid it back into her front pocket and stood up. Her face turned in his direction and she shook her head, running away down the hall.

"Montez!" he called, chasing after her. When he turned the corner, she was no where in sight. "Gabriella?" he said in a whisper. A hand ran through the ends of his hair and he sighed, heading back down the hallway.

He wanted to leave the school, leave Albuquerque for a while. He needed to get away and just drive. But he knew that if he missed another basketball practice, that was it. He'd be done. Not only would he get kicked off the team, but he would disappoint his father, yet again. And he just couldn't do that. Not now.

He opened the door and walked up the steps, planning on clearing his mind – settling some tension. But as he reached the balcony, plants scattered around him, he heard whimpering in the far corner. He stepped back, looking over in the corner where he saw a book bag leaning against the wall. Realizing who was crouched behind the mass of plants, he stopped dead in his tracks. And then he glimpsed back at the door, wanting to make a break for it. Tears, fret, and emotions in general were not his thing.

Troy was sure he would have no idea what to say, what to do, to make her feel better. He didn't even know what had upset her so badly. His hand touched the handle of the door that would let him walk out, leaving her behind, when her heard her sniffle and cry. Not whimper or gasp for breath, but cry.

The sound was like a bullet to his chest. He felt his insides drop to his feet and a sharp pang strike his chest. Before he knew it he was standing before her, his face blank and unsure.

She was buried in a lock of trees, flowers, and bushes; secluding herself from the word.

"What do you want, Troy? Kick me when I'm down?" she asked, sobbing stiffly.

He didn't say anything for quite some time, seeing as how the end of tenth period bell rang out over the school. Truth was, he didn't know what to say or how to comfort her.

Gabriella ignored his very presence, burying herself further into the luscious balcony garden. But then suddenly she felt two strong arms wrap around her. Looking up she saw an awkward Troy looking down at her, his face written with a cumbersome scowl.

"What's wrong?" he asked, surprising himself and her.

"Like you care." she said, stepping out of his grasp.

"You know you wanna tell me." he said, grinning.

"Troy, I really don't have time for this. I should go."

"C'mon, talk to me."

"Why? You'll just use it against me later!" she replied, sitting down her back perched against the wall next to the exit.

"You have my word that I won't." he declared, holding up his right hand.

She sighed, taking a deep breath. A pause swelled through the air, not uncomfortable, just quiet. "It's my mom." she said in a hushed tone. "She's... she's not coming home – for Christmas that is. Leaving me all alone, yet again."

"What a bitch." he mumbled, loud enough for Gabriella to hear. She giggled as that same pang smacked his chest once more. It wasn't a bad feeling, it was sharp, and intense. But in a weird sort of way.

"She's not that bad, most of the time. I mean, she takes care of me and everything. She's just never around, _ever_."

"I realized." he said, his hand raised to the back of his neck as she wiped her tears. "Don't you have any other family? Like your dad... or grandparents that you could go see over Christmas break? You know, so you won't be alone or... whatever." He shrugged, once again surprising himself with his words.

She laughed, sarcastically. "Oh _God_, my dad and his _other _family? Yeah right. Like I want to spend Christmas with his _other _wife, and his _other _three kids. Grandparents? Never met them. No aunts, no uncles, meaning no cousins. Other than my mom, that's it. I'll be fine, though." she said with another humorous laugh, "Don't go beating yourself up about it."

He smirked, dryly and slid his hands into his jean pockets. "If it helps any, Christmas won't rock my world either." She looked up at him, rising from her seat.

"Oh please. You have family, a mom and a dad who will be there to celebrate the holidays with. I've just got... well... no one."

He glanced up at her, "Yeah well, my family is no better than your's, trust me. My dad is– Oh shit! My dad! Dammit, I gotta go." Before she could ask what was up, he ran down the steps and rushed to the gym.

He was late for practice, _again_.


	12. Chapter Twelve

A/N: this chapter's a little... kinky-er than my other ones. haaah

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The hustle and bustle of excited students rumbling around the hallways was overwhelming when Troy walked into school the next morning. He held onto his black book bag as if it carried his most treasured items. Cheerleaders, suited in their red and white revealing uniforms, jumped at the sight of him. Throwing red pom-poms in his face, and giggling flirtatiously.

All around him, girls swooned; grinning from ear to ear. When he reached his locker, swiftly entering the combination and flinging it open, neatly folded pieces of notebook paper cascaded from the shelves, a long with a black laced thong, and a red silky bra. He chucked dryly, almost forcefully as he tossed the bra and set of laced underwear into the hallway. He ignored a screech when the undergarments landed on an innocent bystander.

Curious, his fingers unfolded a perfectly creased slice of notebook paper. Slowly unraveling it's secrets, he sighed when he read it's contents. He should've known.

_Troy —_

_Game day, good luck._

_Maybe we can hook-up at the after party. See ya' there, Babe!_

_xx Madeline_

The girly hearts and scented paper suddenly sickened him. As per usual he would've gladly accepted these offers but, this time was different. Very different. He crumpled the paper up and threw it behind him, grabbing his books, and heading down the hallway.

Girls quickly flocked around him, claiming this as their turn. Everyone, everyone at East High knew what today meant for the female population of the school. It was their chance, their opportunity to have a shot with the basketball God.

Today was Friday, but not just any Friday. Game Day Friday, Championship Friday; with an unsupervised after-party to follow. Every girl knew that after the game, to which East High had already sealed a win, Troy would be looking for a way to release his stress of practice, conditioning, and drills. And everyone knew just how he planned on releasing this 'stress.'

But unbeknownst to them, this Friday, this Game Day – this after-party – would be so much different than all the rest.

As he made his way down the hallway, orange tanned bimboes and high school playmates jumped in his way. He ordered them to move, and when they ignored his commentary, he did so manually; moving them aside with his arms. They didn't seem fazed by his sudden brush off, as they continued harping on him; rubbing his shoulders and blowing on his ear.

"Enough!" he snarled, making everyone around him jump. The girls backed up, giving him his space.

"It's going to be a bad day." someone down the hallway whispered.

The entire student body of East High, that of which was standing in the hallway, had divided into two halves. Separating in the middle for Troy to pass through, as if the white tiled floor had suddenly transformed into an unofficial red carpet.

He hissed, chuckling to himself as he sucked in a rash breath of air. They were so ignorant, so easily ruled. He could tell one of them to jump off a bridge, and by God they would do it. Disgusting... he thought to himself, walking through the halls.

As he protruded on his way, coming closer and closer to home room with each step, he embarked on something that made his stomach turn upside down. His eyes widened and his knuckles turned a pale whitish color – indescribable by the human eye. With his mouth agape and his insides suddenly forming a thunderstorm not even the Weather Channel would approach, he stood there; frozen in time staring at her as if she were doing something illegal – life threatening at that.

It was Gabriella. His Gabriella. Standing there, with some, some asshole. Flirting nonetheless!

Football captain? Lacrosse champion? Basketball second-string half-timer?

No. It was drama-geek Ryan Evans, in all of his sequined glory. Sparkly blue button down and pin-striped fedora to match, he smiled breathlessly as the warning bell roared above. He hugged her, too tight for comfort in Troy's book, turning around and heading for his own classroom. She smiled, waved, and carried on her way as if it was nothing. Nothing at all.

He barged into Darbus' home room, falling into his designated seat as he waited, rather patiently. But his patience ran thin when only minutes later, the bell ending home room rang loudly through the halls. He had sat there for five minutes, give or take a second, before she gracefully walked into the classroom.

Her demeanor slipped past his desk, ever so smoothly, leaving behind a scent of sweet vanilla and delectable caramel. And as she settled in her seat, for the first time in as long as anyone could remember, Mrs. Karen Darbus' homeroom was silent. Absolutely silent.

Time ticked away one second after another, slower than ever before. Well, for Troy at least. And with each second his temper got worse.

His veins seemed to shake and his fists clenched into tight, winding balls. He could feel his eyes glaze over with flames of -- flames of … jealousy?

No, it couldn't be. Could it?

But then, just when he had lost all hope in everything, if anything, he believed in, the end of homeroom bell blared above. The students bustled out of the room, rushing to their first period class. But Troy managed to straggle behind, and sneak up to the balcony.

It was by mistake that he found this school-set paradise. He had been in a bad mood, as usual, and was being chased by psychotic cheerleaders flocking around him like vultures on their prey. They were gaining on him and the balcony door was the first in view. For him, at the time, it equaled a safe-haven. Though plants and bright colors were not exactly his 'style,' he had come to enjoy his safe-haven and typically spent the school day there.

He walked through the big silver door and slow-stepped into the serene garden. His legs mindlessly walked him to the bench, surrounded by greenery. And for the next four periods, that's where he sat.

His mind carried him away to a world he didn't even really know. His only thoughts were focused on the scene he had early witnessed.

Gabriella and Ryan? He chucked, sarcastically, licking his dry, crisp lips and leaning against the balcony banister.

"Bullshit." he muttered, only to himself.

Before he knew it, the lunch bell rang loudly through the hallway. He sighed, once more; deciding that he would have to face it all sooner or later. The touchy-feely cheerleaders. His jealous teammates. And worst of all, Gabriella.

A swift, smooth hand ran through his messy brown hair as he swung open the balcony door. He trudged down the steps and side-stepped through all of the people around him. Many of his teammates came to wish him 'good luck' at the game later that night.

They played on the same team, and yet they were wishing him good luck? He wasn't the only player, didn't they know that? Were they ever going to stop relying on him and work for themselves?

It was as if it was him, and only him, against the opposing team. His father expected him to win, his 'friends' expected him to win, his teammates expected him to win.

Win. Win. Win.

It was like supporting the world on his back. And with each step he made, the weight seemed to get heavier and heavier. No one was ever going to own up to their responsibility, and it was a while back that he realized it was only him in a world full of ignorant followers.

If their was one thing he really couldn't stand, it was followers. Boring, lazy people who couldn't think for themselves. The people who depended on others for their survival. Awful, just horribly awful. He would never understand how someone could lie all of their trust in one single person.

He knew better, than to trust someone that is. He would never be a follower who depended on one single person. He was independent and didn't need anyone but himself.

Or so he thought.

He stopped outside of the cafeteria doors, wringing his fists as he made a U-turn for the balcony. He couldn't deal with his small-minded schoolmates right now. He was too angry. Definitely too angry. He would surely paralyze the first person he saw, no doubt in his mind.

But then, just as he was settling his rage, he saw the worst thing imaginable; to him at least.

Their she stood again, with another guy. No; this time, the boy next to her was not Ryan Evans. It was another boy.

Wavy, blonde hair. Distinctive jaw line. Shockingly hazel eyes.

His eyes widened and for the first time since he could remember he felt shocked. Utterly, repulsively, and completely shocked.

"Gabriella." he grunted, clenching his left fist as his right hand ran through his brown locks. His blood boiled and his forehead felt steaming hot. His stunning blue eyes bored a hole into the back of the boys head.

Brandon Warren.

How could she stand there, next to him? Anyone but him. He could've dealt with anyone but him. Anyone.

Since the day Brandon Warren moved to this town, Troy's town, there had been nothing but conflict between the two. It started with a few misunderstandings, a profanity here; a cruel joke there. But then, as they grew, the 'misunderstandings' did too. And their conflicts turned into dangerous games -- wars even.

It had started with childish "yo' momma" jokes, and had now become full-on fist fights. Though Troy always came out victorious (who would expect anything different?), Brandon always won the innocence claim. And after every one of their fretful battles, Troy would have detention after detention for the next few months. That's how the game went and no one expected any less.

Troy took two steps back, then two to the side, and three forward. His nostrils flared and his eyebrows quivered. The students around him noticed his behavior and backed away, far, far away.

And then, just as he had obtained all of his control, it happened. Brandon's dark hazel eyes turned his way, in almost a taunting manner. They seemed to sparkle with spite and maybe even a hint of desire. His small, grazen lips cast a mocking-like smirk across his tanned face. Brandon's every mannerism, his every twitch, twitter, and breath seemed to smack Troy in the face with a painful brash of insulting jealousy.

Brandon leaned forward, directing his full attention to the brunette beauty in front of him, Troy's eyes rolled, his heart pounding. He had never felt this angry; he had never felt this kind of burning hatred rumble in his stomach. Yes, he knew it now. It was definitely jealousy.

And then, then it happened; Brandon Anthony Thomas Warren Jr. did the unspeakable. He slipped in further, and further -- closer and closer -- until finally, his lips met Gabriella's sweet innocent ones as his mouth parted slightly and Troy distinctively saw tongue. Oh, dear God. Tongue!?

The look on Gabriella's face was unmistakably shocked, but Troy missed it all. His fury took over and the usually maintainable control he had typically possessed floated away and popped like a bubble

That was it, Brandon Warren had something Troy Bolton didn't. And that something was Gabriella Montez.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: four more to go...

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

She wasn't sure what to say, or what to do, when Brandon's lips crushed hers. The kiss was meaningless and her only thought was why. Why was he kissing her?

The discussion leading up to the kiss was anything but desirously suggestible. They were discussing an upcoming science test, in the most unruly manner too. Brandon had asked Gabriella if she would tutor him. His exact words were, "My entire life depends on this test. If I bomb it, I'm off the football team. I'll even pay you."

And she had replied with, "I'm not sure, I'm actually kind of busy right now. You might want to ask Taylor McKessie."

To her, that said nothing like, "Kiss me now, boy!"

When the thoughts that were racing through her mind began to slow, she pulled back. Her eyes were filled with confusion and even more confusion.

But the look in Brandon's eyes told Gabriella something completely different. His green orbs were empty; expressionless. But his face, his face told stories he would never admit to or ever discuss. The scars outlining his jaw, the bruises that marked his cheeks and under eyes, the large cut just an inch above his eyebrow. She knew he had secrets and she wasn't going to ask about them.

While she gazed into the secretive face of what would soon become the enemy, her only thought was focused on Troy. His tell-all eyes and hidden agenda. The way his muscles flexed when she touched him. The waving movement of his lips when he spoke. The pain in his eyes when he kidnapped her to the river. And what was the deal with his father?

No. She mentally shook her head. _You don't care_, she repeated in her mind. _You do _not _care._

She sucked in an inward breath. That's when the realization that Brandon Warren was sucking her face washed over her. His tongue scooped into her mouth and she gasped. She tried to speak, ask what exactly he thought he was doing, but he was much stronger. What was she to do?

Her body revolted, striking backwards; confusion was written across her face. No words were spoken for quite some time as a pair of blue eyes stared intently at the scene before them.

Gabriella's eyes scanned over Brandon's face, as if looking for an answer. But all she saw was emptiness, ruthless emptiness taunting. He was using her.

But why? Why use the new girl? Amusement, maybe. She surely couldn't tell.

"Um, I should go." She began letting her shoulder shrug as her bag slipped down and hung securely off her forearm. She slid the zipper open and pulled out a pen and a torn sheet of paper. Scribbling something down, she said, "Here's Taylor's number. I'm sure she'd be happy to tutor you." She turned on her heel and proceeding in heading down the hallway.

Brandon nodded and shouted, "Thanks, babe!" She stopped, and on better judgment, said nothing further. Her footwork glided her down the hallway and she quickly swerved the corner.

Brandon shook his head, pleased of his work.

"Think it's funny, eh, Warren?" a smooth voice spoke from behind him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Troy." Brandon replied.

"That's okay, I think I can fix that." Before Brandon had a chance to respond, Troy Bolton's calloused knuckles collided with his left eye. He clutched his hand, swinging to the floor. A bruise was already appearing when Troy said, "Get off your ass, _Brandon_."

He wasn't expecting this. This was definitely not a part of his plan. Make Troy mad, let the jealousy leak out of his eyes, and then drop it. Only long enough to hurt him. But before second guessing himself, Brandon stood, unsteady on two feet. "What? Is little Troy... _jealous_?"

"Of what? _You_?" He chuckled dryly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Haven't you learned yet, son?"

"Learned wha--" But Brandon's reply never came, for Troy could not contain himself any longer.

His right hand wrapped itself around Brandon's neck, just below his trachea. He squeezed until he couldn't any more, raising Brandon up a set of lockers. He dropped him suddenly, letting his body perch to the floor. But Brandon didn't stay down for long. He wouldn't give up that easily, and from previous fights, Troy was already aware.

He knew Brandon's every move. From his lack of survival skills to his cocky wit. He was a conceited, arrogant bastard. He needed to be taught a lesson and who better to teach him then Troy Bolton, himself?

Brandon's right hand extended as he raised it just above his head, ready for battle. Troy smirked, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You serious, Warren? Gonna play the same card?"

Brandon faked his right and propelled his left hand towards Troy's tightly locked jaw. His head ducked and his back hunched as he chuckled dryly. He knew what was coming next: football maneuvers.

And sure enough Brandon's pre-planned fight tactics wrung out as he tackled Troy to the ground.

Troy wasn't a big fan of football, he was raised strictly on basketball. Sure he'd watched a few games, but he had never really gotten into it.

Brandon was approximately six feet tall and a good a hundred and sixty pounds. He was surely bigger through width and length than Troy, having at least a well-off thirty pounds and three inches. But with the control, and the incisive leaking of power, Troy play-rolled on top, pinning Brandon's arms above his head. He punched his left cheek, his right middle finger cracking subtly with the collision. Repeatedly, his fists smacked into Brandon's previously busted up face.

Left, right. Left, right. Right, right, left.

Heels clicked along the hard tiled floor and a gasp filled the air.

"Troy," she shouted, rushing towards the scene, "Troy! Stop it! You'll kill him!"

"Gabriella, stay out of this." Troy growled through clenched teeth. "Back off." His voice discharged venom and inept anger. Though he didn't mean for it to.

She grasped his shoulders, forcing him backwards with all of the strength she had. He slid back about a foot as Brandon lie on the floor.

Troy's bottled up rage, the anger towards his life, his uncontrollable feelings for some feisty-seat-taking-back-talking-so-amazingly-beautiful girl, and the jealousy he was forced to deny, was already painted across Brandon's face.

"What the _hell _do you think you are doing?" she asked, her voice loud and filled with authority.

"It's none of your business." he snarled, heading towards main doors.

"Troy…" she spoke so quietly, so timidly that he felt his stomach quench and his anger fade away. Her hand rose and stopped softly on his cheek. Her fingers swept away a few droplets of blood revealing a tiny gash just above his eyes brow. She slowly moved his hair away from the incision, holding it up with her left hand while her right hand examined the seen.

A bell suddenly rang and students rushed out of classrooms, screaming and cheering. Gabriella spun around, taking a double-take of the students cheers:

"Wild!"

"Cats!"

"Wild!"

"Cats!"

That's when a bulletin flew through her mind. Today was game-day Friday; a half day for the students of East High School. Tomorrow started Christmas break.

Cheers filled the hallways with the background music of slamming lockers and honking buses. But in between all of the excitement and uproar, stood a bleeding boy and a horribly disappointed girl.

The look on Gabriella's face, Troy noted, was undescribably depressing. It made his chest ache and his stomach quench. God dammit.

He reached for her left hand and pulled her into a nearby janitor closet. Slamming the door shut behind him, he swept a chair up against the doorknob.

He turned around to meet Gabriella's dabbing hands, wiping at her eyes. He stared once, twice, then three times over. She was crying? he marked rhetorically. She laughed, a sarcastic, wit-dripped laugh that still made his chest tighten. Then she lifted her gaze from the floor and met his magnetic, emotionless eyes.

"I've known you for less than a month and we've already been in a closet together twice!" she declared, smiling amusedly.

"Oh," he said, smirking roughly, "that's how I win girls over."

She nodded, not really listening to his words. "So," she paused, looking around the closet. "Why exactly are we in a janitor's closet?"

"_I_ am in a janitor's closet because I'm not in the mood to deal with detention slips and congratulating assholes." he replied, taking a seat in the chair propped against the doorknob.

"Assholes? You think that your friends are assholes for wishing you 'good luck' at the game tonight?" Her eyebrows rose in question but her hands wrung in a nervous aftershock.

"Yeah." he answered, indifferently. "I do." He stopped for a second, taking in her appearance and then continued with information he wondered if he should share. "So I can shoot a fucking ball through a hoop. Having good aim shouldn't make me worshiped." He paused, once more, and she quickly noticed that he was debating. What he was debating, though, was a completely different question. "I want to see what my team can do without me around. I want to know that they can play without me making the baskets, me taking the shots." His voice was dry, like he had been stranded in the desert for four days without water. "I'm not going to the game tonight." he declared as his eyes cast themselves on her apparel, her hair, her lips...

She didn't get a chance to respond. Ask him why he didn't like the attention or why he wasn't going to the biggest game over the year. And later, when she looked back at the scene, she was rather pleased that she didn't get that chance.

His lips came collectively against hers. Moving in time with his hands that found their way into her jean pockets. It took her a minute to realize the strength of the situation until finally, her lips moved too. She slowly, but ever so surely, kissed back.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

It wasn't a deep kiss, nor was it filled with passion. But it was needed in so many ways. And when he pulled back, Gabriella's tongue traced her lips longing once more for his taste.

He pulled away with the satisfaction that maybe, just _maybe_, he could trust her. He grinned, inwardly, knowing that she wouldn't question his decisions. He liked that.

Nothing was said for the next seven minutes and thirteen seconds, only the sound of rapid heart beats and the hallucination that they were in a better place than a janitor's closet. The loud combustion in the hallways came to a halt, as Gabriella moved the chair from in front of the door. She opened it slowly, looking outside to see nothing but empty, littered hallways.

She didn't turn around as her hand reached for his. And he said nothing as she pulled him out of the closet and into the bare hallways.

"C'mon, I'm gonna fix that cut." she said, just above a whisper.

"No," he said, his feet secure and his voice solid. "I have a better idea."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

A/N: thanks for all of the 47 reviews! totallyy knocked me outta my office chair. :)

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

She rolled down the window, letting the snowflakes blow in with the cold wind. Beside her, Troy looked over and smirked. She smiled, allowing the crisp white powder to blow against her face. Her hair fanned out in the wind as her eyes closed for a minute or two.

It had been seven hours since they had driven out of the Albuquerque limits, seven long, tiring hours in which neither had slept. Troy insisted that he wasn't tired; it was, after all, only seven at night.

As Gabriella let her window shut tight, locking out the snow, she looked over at Troy. His eyebrows raised and he scrunched his forehead.

"Yes, Montez?"

"It's been seven hours, where on Earth are you taking me?"

"Having second thoughts?" He directed his attention back on the road ahead.

"No, not at all, actually. Just…" she sighed, glancing out the window once more, "curious, I guess."

He nodded in response, which she saw through her peripheral vision. There was a silence in the air, giving Troy enough time to think over his decision. He was about to do something he didn't know if he would regret. And once he did it, there was no going back.

His head ached, but he felt content. This wasn't a bad decision. He knew he could trust her. That's why she was difference. That's why he liked her.

"Colorado." He spoke suddenly, just as the sun was setting below the sparkling white mountain peaks.

"Explains the snow." she added, nodding.

"It's a little town called Crescent Alvolent." He pulled the car off onto a small side road, with only enough room for his Ford. "It's amazing; no matter how small it is; really beautiful."

"And where exactly will we be staying in little Crescent Alvolent?"

"That, you're going to have to wait for." He looked over at her and did something he had only done a few times before, smiled. Another true, one of a kind, Troy Bolton original. His top row of pearly whites glistened as Gabriella smiled in return. Only seconds later, his lips sealed and he continued down the now dark road.

He slowed the car down, knowing he was coming close.

Gabriella had drifted off to sleep a few minutes previous, and since then, Troy had looked over in her direction every few seconds.

He turned left, then right, and skidded down the long road surrounded by forest and snow.

Only moments later, he pulled into a brightly lit driveway leading up into a large cottage-style house, decorated fully in all of its Christmas glory.

Troy reached over, brushing the hair out of Gabriella's eyes. He leaned down, whispering quietly in her ear, "Montez," The warmness of his breath tickled her cold lobe, "we're here."

"Ehh," she squirmed in her sleep, his black leather jacket that had been draped over her shoulders some time ago falling to her knees. She wiped the slumber from her eyes, careful not to disturb her make-up. A yawn lurched out of her parted lips as she slowly came to. "And where exactly is here?"

"C'mon." he answered, hopping out of the driver's side, swiftly opening her door. She skipped out, grabbing her bag that he graciously swept from her hands. "Follow me." Doing exactly what, only days ago, she had sworn she wouldn't, she obeyed, tracing his steps in the forlorn snow.

Gazing up at the house, she couldn't help but smile gleefully. It was just so... perfect.

Anything but small, the house had large grand windows that would look fully into the life of a loving family she had not known existed. The front door featured a double-set, two large wooden lodge doors with a knocker centered on both. Lengthy brass handles and a cozy doormat reading, "Home Sweet Home" greeted them as they walked towards the open-area porch.

Lights were strung from the highest peak of the cottage's roof, to the lowest level of its dingy ground floor. Bushes were sparkling with white lights that shone a wispy yellow-gold, while wreaths wrested above each window. Individual lighted candles were placed in the middle of each window ledge, making it the picture perfect home for any gorgeous Christmas card cover.

Without knocking one of the large golden knockers, or ringing the sparkly doorbell, Troy pushed open the left of the pair. Following the luggage stringing behind Troy, Gabriella stepped cautiously into the beautiful home.

"Anyone home?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the rooms.

"Troy?" a homey voice called out from the room just across from them.

"Yeah, I guess that's the name."

"That's what your birth certificate says." A middle-aged woman walked out through a doorway and into the entry, smiling cheerfully. She was decked in a white turtleneck sweater that was sprinkled with red dots around the bust line. A heart-shaped pendant hung from her neck, matching her gold earrings. "And who might you be?"

"Gabriella, ma'am, Gabriella Montez." She answered, holding out her hand.

"I'm Lena." She said, disregarding Gabriella's outstretched hand as she swept her into a hug. "It's nice to meet you."

"Lena let the girl go. We've been driving for six—"

"Seven." Gabriella corrected, smiling cheekily.

"_Seven_ hours, all she wants to do is lay down and sleep." he stated, looking between Gabriella and Lena quickly.

"Oh, Troy, would you shut up and let the girl speak for herself?" Lena said, her eyes piercing him with sarcastic playfulness. They were blue, a glamorous ocean blue – just like Troy's. Lena wrapped her left arm around Gabriella's shoulder, guiding her into the living room. "He doesn't have you here against your will, does he?" she whispered, grinning like a mischievous child.

Gabriella shook her head, "No, he doesn't." She smiled, gazing up at Lena. Her hair was a gorgeous sandy brown, highlights running through specific pieces. She had to have been in her early forties, possibly even her late thirties.

"He's never brought anyone here with him, well, a frilly boy with curly hair." Lena shook her head, disapprovingly. "Dumb little thing. Couldn't figure out how the refrigerator light went off when he shut the door, got himself stuck in the damn thing trying to unravel it's 'evil plan.'" She used air quotes on the last remarking words.

Gabriella giggled, covering her mouth with her right hand. "Chad." She stated solemnly.

"Lena, where are you taking her? You take out baby pictures and I swear---"

"You swear, what, Troy Bolton? You'll emancipate yourself?"

He grunted, heading into the kitchen.

"Wait." Gabriella's head shook. "Emancipated? You're his… _mother_?"

"Oh, I see he talks a lot about the woman that gave him life, love you too, Troy." She smiled. "I guess I am."

Troy walked back into the living room, "Ha, ha." He cleared his throat, clicked his tongue, then snapped his fingers. "Come on, I'll show you your room."

They headed up the spiral staircase, one slow step at a time. A dazed Gabriella reached the landing and laughed crisply.

"You have a mother?"

"What? They didn't have health class in Connecticut?" He wiggled his eyebrows, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Shocking."

"Isn't it?"

Gabriella smiled as Troy led her into her room. It was cute; adorable really. Clean white walls, a light blue comforter blanketing a queen-sized bed. A door opened up, revealing an empty closet with nothing but a broom. Another door stood beside the closet, which Troy showed to be the bathroom. In addition there was a dresser, a television, and a vanity with a mirror.

"It's perfect."

"Good." He clutched his hands together, after lying her suitcase on the bed. "My rooms right down the hall. You know, if the power goes out." He smirked as she smacked him on the shoulder.

"Oh, so that's how it is, Bol_ton_? I seem to recall a certain boy with a four-point GPA asking for me to tutor him, eh?" She smiled, unashamedly. He knew she was smart, he just hadn't paid attention to _how_ smart. "Yes. I know."

"I figured you would catch me." He felt his cheeks warming, but held it in. What a wonderful thing to have so much control of your emotions. "You tutored me anyway. Maybe it's because…" He smirked, sitting on the bed, "you like me."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't call this 'like.' Infatuation _maybe_, a school girl crush." Her cheeks turned pink and Troy quickly pinpointed the blush rising on her face. He nodded, smirking in an intimidating upper-hand kind of way.

"Of course." He nodded, putting off a knowing vibe. "A simple crush." He paused, feeling the fabric of the comforter in between his fingers. "That's why you came here with me. That's why you let me stay at your house when you knew mine was just down the street. That's why---"

"Okay, just stop." She rolled her eyes, sitting on the window seat across from him. "I came here because I had nothing better to do. If I wasn't here, I'd be at home, alone, doing nothing. And as for letting you stay at my house, it was storming. I wasn't about to let you go outside, no matter how much I loathed you. Plus, at the time, I didn't know you were living down the street."

"I'm going to pick up Jamie and Alexis from the airport. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Be good!" Lena called from downstairs. The sound of the garage door rising and closing was the only sound filling the air.

He stood up, walked over to her, and sat down a foot away on the window bench.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is."

They stared at each other for a minute, maybe three, before her arms were wrapped around his neck and his lips were on hers. And within a five-minute time span, her shirt was on the floor; along with his pants.

"Troy…" She looked up at him, on top of her. His shirt discarded minutes before. "If we…"

Kiss.

"I know." he replied.

Kiss.

"And then…"

Kiss.

"I know." he repeated.

Kiss.

"And it will only com—"

Kiss.

"_Gabri_ella, I know."

His hand dwindled on her bra clasp as a frosted snow split from the clouds, gracefully falling to the ground at a steady pace.

Outside, a blizzard was forming, but inside, things couldn't get hotter.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

A/N: two moreeeeee...

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

She rolled over, patting the empty space next to her. The room was dark, and she was in bed alone. And… naked. Alone and naked. _Great_.

Her head felt strange, and she couldn't focus. The room seemed to spin when she sat up and clutched the sheets. This was too much; simply just too much. Too much to handle, think about, and stare at.

Had she really just slept with Troy Bolton? This was going to be good. Really, _really _good.

_Not_.

She laid back, resting her head on the pillow. Hopefully he ran away. Maybe he accidentally slipped out of bed and hit his head on the night stand, knocking him unconscious while conveniently giving him the perfect degree of amnesia.

Simple perfection was all she asked for; prayed for. Just once, could things go her way.

"Amnesia. Amnesia." Gabriella repeated in a hush tone, crossing her fingers and squinting her eyes.

"No such luck, Montez." a voice broke into the silence covered in her deviating prayer; wish.

"I told you this was going to complicate things. I got caught up in the moment." she reasoned, more to her benefit than Troy's. She flung her legs over the edge of the bed, covering herself in his t-shirt. She flipped it over her head, making sure it covered her reasonably well until she could gather her clothes.

Underwear.

They were bright pink, not hard to miss. God damn it, why weren't they glow-in-the-dark?

She sighed.

"Check under the bed." he clarified. And then, for the first time since she dreamily fell asleep in his arms, the enemy's arms, she saw him; situated by the large opened window. The window she hadn't even noticed previously.

She reached under the bed, and like magic, pulled out her laced pink underwear.

"Told 'ya." he looked over at her, eyes connecting with eyes like the cliché that it was.

"I did, you know." She ran a hand through her hair, slipping on her panties. Slowly, she approached him as if he were a possessed mountain lion sent from Hell to afflict her with the worst crush of infatuation ever. He raised his eyebrows, questioningly so. She clarified, "Got caught up in the moment. It was another momentary lapse in judgment. You should actually be proud of yourself because frankly, my judgment doesn't lapse very often."

"Right." He nodded, and she couldn't tell if he as being sincere or the usual cocky fool he normally was. "Seriously though, it wasn't a momentary lapse in judgment. And you didn't get caught up in the moment."

"And suddenly you can read minds?"

"And suddenly you've switched to bitch."

"Sorry." she mumbled, plopping down against the window sill, her back hitting the cold glass.

"Sorry?" He smirk-smiled, half of his face was smirking, the other half forming into a smile. She giggled, a sweet, melodic laugh that made his ears feel fuzzy and ticklish. What the hell? He winced, walking over to the bed, and collapsing onto the side she had laid. It was still warm and smelled of caramelized vanilla. Shit.

"You do things, Montez." He sat up, facing her. But she wasn't facing him, as she gazed out the window -- in a trance.

"Things?" He couldn't literally see her raise her eyebrows, but he knew she did.

He nodded, continuing on. "Things that…" He chuckled dryly, "Maybe you're right."

"I usually am."

"Conceited _and _bitchy."

"Oh stick it, Troy Bolton." she half-yelled, facing him with anger in her eyes.

"I believe I already did." he stated, wondering if he was going to regret those words.

Smack. Her hand collided with his cheek, leaving a tingly pinch. Guess so.

"You asshole. This is what I am? Another fuck? Well, I, for one, will not be another notch in your sex-bed post. I'm not that girl, and you damn well know it."

_Sex-bed post?__ Smooth_, she thought, internally grimacing.

"I do know it, and that's why I can't fucking stand you!" he yelled, slashing his hand across the lamp, sitting lonely on the night stand. It fell, crashing broken and cracked on the floor. Gabriella jumped back in her seat, her back coming closer and closer to the glass. Troy's shirt on her back suddenly felt poisonous and her stomach twisted. If she had had a bra under this damn shirt, she would have taken it off and strangled him with it.

But, realizing there was no bra, no cover to shield her body, she decided against it. Besides, what kind of sight would that be? A petite brunette suffocating a tall, muscular boy with his shirt, topless.

The words Jenna Jameson flashed through her mind and she couldn't help but laugh.

This is what he meant.

"You do things to me, too." she said, laughing as she leaned against the window, comfortably this time. "Things that I don't even want to think about."

Blood slipped off his hand in small river patterns, forming a delta on the hardwood floor. His forehead scrunched and he sighed, not mad or sad, just there. Breathing out whatever was in his mouth.

"This is weird." he stated, amused. "Too damn fucking weird." He crashed against the bed, his arm against his bare chest.

Oh dear God, he had white _boxers _on with navy blue stripes going vertically across. Boxers. And he looked amazing, too.

"You dumb, emotionless ass, you're going to bleed all over the clean sheets! Get up!" she shouted, pulling him by the arm that wasn't wounded. She dragged him into the bathroom, sticking his hand under the running water.

"Does this always happen to you after sex, 'cause it's a first for me." Gabriella half-heartedly grinned, looking up into his blue eyes. They were dark, and shadowed; portraying an emotion she had yet to see.

"Ditto." She nodded, agreeing, as she bandaged his hand the best she could. "That was stupid, you know? Taking out your anger on a lamp. It wasn't even on." She examined her work. "I thought you usually went after vending machines, anyway. Lamps too, now?"

He wanted to roll his eyes, smile in the charming way he knew that he could, while laughing the charismatic laugh he knew he could produce. But, he just couldn't. He had been holding in his real emotions, controlling them with such a sophisticated demeanor, and now, now wasn't an exception. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. This girl, he had already shown so much of himself to this girl.

And now, here she was with him, at his mother's house. The mother that all of East High (minus Gabriella and Chad) believed was dead. It was all too much. His brain clicked and his eyes lost their shadowy erosion.

"I've… I've got to go." he said, suddenly albeit quietly.

"Wait, excuse me?" He ran into the bedroom, tossing on his clothes. Excluding his shirt, all the while. He stood by the bed, buttoning his jeans when his eyes rose from their position on his zipper, and faced her body, leaning ever so gracefully on the door.

"Fucking hell." he said, quietly, obscuring her glance for as long as he could. Then he gawked, remembering the hour previous to this twisted conversation.

He walked out of the bedroom, glancing at her one last time.

She wasn't shocked, nor disappointed. Actually, she was slightly pleased that he left. She now had a chance to get dressed and make herself look more presentable than she was positive she looked right now.

Her body shifted and she stared into the mirror on the bathroom wall. Her eyes were glazed over; her hair disordered and ragged. Her perfectly applied make-up was now smudged and vanishing before her eyes. Her regular, average lips were red and swollen.

She pushed back the hair on her neck, revealing a slowly forming bruise.

"Perfect." she murmured, sarcastically.

Gabriella Montez wasn't exactly sure what sex looked like, but she was sure that if they were to run an ad campaign, she'd be the poster child.

She rummaged through her bag, finding her make-up bag and hair brush. Within minutes, she had re-finished her make-up, perfected her chocolate locks, and got dressed. Glimpsing in the mirror, she felt satisfied. She no longer looked like sex, now simply just felt like it.

Voices carried up the stairs; Gabriella could hear Lena's motherly laugh. She had known the woman for four hours, or so, and talked to her once, exchanging a couple of sentences, but now -- thinking back on the woman, she couldn't help but grin. She seemed to be everything she wanted in a mother, everything she believed Veronica should be.

But that's exactly where she was mistaken. That's what Troy had been saying earlier; assumption was an evil thing. It snuck up on you like a snake, and killed you with its venom. Assuming that a gun isn't loaded can result in your demise, assuming that your morning sickness will eventually go away will ultimately produce your very own child, and assuming that every person is exactly how they appear can result in a shocking surprise.

When she arrived downstairs, her heart felt lighter and the happenings previous to her arrival in the foyer had vanished from her mind. The smell, feel, and even the taste of sex had diminished completely. She smiled, happily, feeling as though she never wanted to leave.

Lena stood only feet away, her gaze downcast on a glass of water and her closed fist. She brought her hand up to her mouth, dumping it's contents onto her awaiting tongue. Quickly, she flushed it down with the crystal glass of water.

Two capsule pills slipped down her throat as she sat the glass down on a nearby table. Gabriella's eyes stared, affectionately. Her mind filled with curiosity. She wouldn't ask, she knew she wouldn't. It was rude and she was above that. Imposing, at least. But when her heart spoke, her mind always told another tale. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all.

Lena raised her head from the glass, and smiled up at Gabriella. Her voice sounding so warm when she spoke. "Oh, Gab--" She paused, closing her eyes as if she felt faint. "--briella. Come down here, sweetie. Come meet Jame and Lexie!"

Jamie and Alexis actually.

She stepped into the living room, with Lena right by her side only to be greeted with a carbon copy of the one and only Troy Bolton. The only differences being that she was a girl and that she was much shorter. Her brown hair lay just above her shoulders, curled under to perfection. The silver eye shadow on her eyes made Gabriella feel under "decorated." She wore a white t-shirt and a dingy pair of jeans completed with white socks, accented with tiny Polo icons.

She held out her hand and introduced herself as Troy's sister.

Boy did that kid have a lot of secrets.

"Alexis!" Jamie called, as a little girl with bouncing blonde hair scurried into the room. Her pink ruffling dress flying behind her. "Alexis, baby, this is Gabriella." Jamie introduced, picking up the little girl and tossing her on her left hip.

"Hi!" she smiled cheerfully, innocently. "Jamie, can I play, now?"

"Of course, go on." Jamie answered, scurrying the little girl off into the halls.

Gabriella's eyes rose for the downcast they had been positioned in and met Jamie's blue ones. Her eyelashes were bare, the only make-up on her face being the silver eye shadow. Gabriella looked around the room to meet the eyes of a content Troy who seemed, as always, completely unfazed.

"I better go help Mom with dinner, don't want to leave her alone for too long." Jamie stated, walking into the kitchen. "It was nice meeting you, Gabriella." she called in after exiting the room.

"Likewise!" Gabriella replied, taking a seat across from Troy in an overstuffed white chair.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly, glaring into the roaring fireplace whose flames were just being noticed.

"Of your secret family? They're nice, I love your mom already."

"They weren't a secret. You never asked, I never shared."

She sighed, how did he always have a point?

"I-I just as--"

"You just assumed, I know." He smirked, his lips dry. "You really should stop doing that, it does nothing but get you into trouble." He stood up from his seat and held out his hand for her to take, guiding her into the kitchen where Lena, Jamie, and even little Alexis fiddled by the stove. Each, out of the three, wearing oven mitts, though Alexis' hung dangling off her small hands.

His words had meant nothing to her at the time, but in the hours to come, they would mean everything.

Assuming really was a dreadful thing, and Gabriella had the awful habit of assuming everything was how she thought it to be. Oh, how wrong she was.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

A/N: spring break + one more chapter, what could get better than that!?

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

It was three 'o clock in the morning when Gabriella glanced at the clock. She'd been laying in bed, waiting for sleep, for three long hours. Her stomach felt sick and her mind wouldn't hold still. Finally, after giving in to the sleep that would never come, she flipped herself out of bed and slipped into the hall, quietly as possible.

She stood outside of Troy's bedroom, the door barely closed. She wanted to open it, walk inside, and bury herself in his chest until she fell asleep. But, it couldn't be done. Gabriella wasn't afraid of much, but rejection was definitely on the top of her list.

But as her legs carried her down the hallway, Troy rolled over in his bed and his eyes looked towards the door. She should've come in, but he knew what she was thinking. She was afraid, and he was to blame. He hoped someday, maybe, she'd understand. He was this way because of rejection, because of things that had harmed him in the past. It just wasn't as easy as he knew she wanted it to be. He was a complication, and they both knew it.

When she arrived downstairs, her mind focused on where the kitchen was. It was awkward, wandering someone else's house in the middle of the night, but she had to do something other than lie awake in bed.

She found it only moments later, and hurriedly reached for a glass from the sink. Running it under the faucet, she gulped it down in a few sips. A breath flew from her mouth as she rinsed out the glass and sat it down. Her back pressed itself against the counter and she rest her head in the palm of her hands.

So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. It was insane to think that she had practically runaway and slept with Troy Bolton in the same day. He was a secretive person, she knew that; she understood that. But why did he have to be that way towards her?

She felt it, he cared. Or, at least she thought he did. She thought he might have had feelings for her but as she stood there in his mother's kitchen, she realized right then that anything was possible. With that boy, anything could happen. She shook her head as it rested in her hands, relinquishing any negative thoughts.

"Bad day?" The voice scared any contradictory idea out of her mind. Her heart dropped down to her abdomen and her lungs tightened. Her feet lifted inches off the ground and she clutched her stomach with her left hand. A yelp parted from her lips and the young woman sitting at the kitchen island couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." A small light filtered through the room and illuminated the face of Troy's sister, Jamie.

"Wow." Gabriella laughed, covering her mouth. "I didn't know anyone was down here."

"Yeah, I figured so." Jamie smiled and Gabriella instantly took note that she was much like Lena. There was a silence that enveloped the room, a silence that neither girl noticed. It wasn't awkward nor confusing, just quiet. "Couldn't sleep?" Jamie asked, her eyebrows perched as she cupped the mug in her hand.

"Pretty much. So much to think about, I guess." she paused. A thought suddenly crossed her mind when she realized if Troy's sister knew what he was like. She wondered if Jamie, or even Lena for that matter, noticed that Troy was secretive and well-kept. Her eyes moved upward, colliding with the blue ones belonging to the young woman across from her. Jamie smirked, much like Troy.

"He hasn't, you know." Gabriella's forehead scrunched and she looked up at Jamie with eyes full of question. She must've taken note of Gabriella's confusion because she was quick to clarify. "He hasn't been so private his entire life. But he has always been manipulative and conniving." She stopped, her blue eyes tracing up Gabriella's figure. "The secrecy came after Hannah's death, when Mom was diagnosed and Dad left with that tramp."

Gabriella's mouth fell agape and she clutched her fist. Maybe this family was too much for her to handle. Jamie noticed her astonishment and she continued, explaining.

"She was the oldest..." Her voice trailed off as Gabriella's forehead crinkled. Another sister? It was awful that she wasn't as surprised. "The day after we buried Hannah, Mom turned to booze, Dad turned to Jenny, I took care of Alexis, and Troy… Troy shut out the world. He was there, so it really took a toll on him." She stopped, rubbing her hands up and down the mug. "He was… about thirteen. I don't know exactly what happened, because I wasn't there and Troy, well Troy obviously isn't into sharing the gory details…" The mug reached her lips and she took a sip, eying Gabriella interestedly. "But, it really hit him. And then when Mom started drinking and Dad just up and left, I guess he didn't know what to do. He kept to himself, locked everything in and never looked back, you know? I'm not sure how Troy ended up in Albuquerque with _them_."

Gabriella didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure if she should be sorry, sad, confused, or just plain old astounded. This wasn't something she planned, and she liked things that were planned. Spontaneity wasn't in her outline and suddenly everything was run-of-the-mill surprising.

"I-I…"

"You don't know what to say," Jamie pointedly added, smiling with that warm, understanding comfort. "It's okay. There's nothing to say, really." She stood up and patted Gabriella on the shoulder. "You should get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow holds."

They walked out of the kitchen together, Jamie turning off the light. And when they entered the living room, Troy stood, smirking confidently. It was a confidence that brought chills to Gabriella's spine and she shook with the strangest feeling.

Troy eyed Jamie, and Jamie eyed Troy. It was awkward, to say the least and Gabriella only wanted to get out of there. She smiled at Jamie and coyly stared at Troy as she headed up the stares. A yawn ran through her throat before she added a soft 'good night' to the siblings standing in a frontal confrontation.

She had every intention of going to her bed, staring at the ceiling and over-analyzing every word she had just taken in but something told her to stay. She stopped in the hallway and stood behind the wall. Voices weren't heard for quite some time, and when they were, she wished she'd just gone to bed.

"What'd you tell her?" Troy asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The truth. You should really focus on that, y'know? It seems like this girl cares about you, more than those other sluts you've been with." Jamie's voice was louder, clearly heard when her tone reached Gabriella's ears.

"C'mon, Jame. She's just a girl." She's just a girl? Gabriella's heart beat faster, that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Just a girl? Oh, please, Troy. Don't go lying to me. You can keep your secretive emotions to yourself, you can act like you don't care, but you damn well know you do." Her voice only got louder and Gabriella shuttered at the thought of what Troy would say next. "I like her, she's nice and pretty too."

"I really don't care, Jame. I don't. She's just another girl."

"Another girl that you brought out here? Yeah, Troy. She's just another girl. You can stand there, and lie to yourself, but you aren't going to fool me." Gabriella bent around the corner, peeking at the sight below her. Jamie and Troy were head to head, Jamie's left fist against Troy's chest. "Don't hurt her, Troy. She doesn't need that. She doesn't need you."

"You really have no idea, Jamie. You think I don't know that I'm nothing but bad news for her? Trust me, I know." It was his voice, now, that raised in volume.

"Oh, so you do care? I thought she was just another fuck?"

"She is, Jamie!"

That was it. The end of it all. The truth was out and Gabriella's eyes welled with tears. She felt, somewhere deep down, that he didn't mean it. But as she ran into her room and slammed the door shut, she couldn't help but feel the negative air.

She tossed her clothes into her suitcase and zipped it closed, leaning it against the dresser. Her head hit the pillow and she made the decision to leave. If he didn't want her, she wasn't going to force him. It just wasn't meant to be.

But down the steps, guilt filled the air. Jamie stared Troy in the eye when the sound of a slamming door drifted to them. They both knew Gabriella had been standing there listening, and they both knew she was upset.

His feet carried him up the stairs and he knocked on her door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

His fist beat the door, the echo of the knock bouncing off the walls.

"Gabriella, open the door." he repeated the words God only knows how many times, until he gave in. "I didn't mean it, you know I didn't mean it."

But they both knew, even though he might not have meant it, he said it. And because he said it, he thought it. He knew he couldn't take words back. Especially words he knew would affect her so terribly.

She fell asleep before he finished his speech, her head buried in the pillow. Right then, right there, she felt as though his words were filled with nothing but lies. Her dreams were filled with nothing but fear, and rejection.

If only she would have stayed in New Mexico. What a stupid, stupid idea to come out here in the middle of no where with the boy who, days ago, she had hated with a passion.

Life worked in mysterious ways and right then, Gabriella was done.

When morning light shone its sparkling face, the ground buried in snow, Gabriella was dressed and climbing out the window with her suitcase behind her. She figured, outside that bedroom door, laid a passed out Troy who had been sucked into sleep by exhaustion. And if she'd opened that door, he'd wake up, whisk her away with his words of clarity and she'd be stuck.

No, that wasn't going to happen.

She was done this time and she really wasn't going to look back.

She climbed off the room, slipping in the snow as she tossed her luggage down to the white ground below her. She jumped down only second later, landing perfectly on her feet.

Troy's car sat in the driveway from the night before and with the snow falling freely from the sky, she did her best to remember how to hot wire a car.

Until, ten long minutes later, the sound of the engine roaring filled the early morning breeze. She put it in reverse and sped out to the road.

The directions on how to get out of there were a little fuzzy, but she was leaving and no emotionally confused blue-eyed boy was going to stop her.

End of story.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

A/N: here it is: the LAST chapter of _MA_. It feels good to finally finish, sad, but good sad. _Bittersweet_... perhaps? (cough) two things real quick 1- sorry, no sequel :( & 2- new story in the works already & another with that. Enjoy! And final thanks to all my reviewers & even those who read but didn't review :))

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

The sound of Alexis using his body as a human layout of hopscotch was what woke him up. He twirled over, his head hitting the bedroom door he had so stubbornly stalked himself out of.

Then, realization hit him. Had she snuck out of the room without him knowing?

"Al," Troy said, stopping the little girl from pouncing on his groin. "Have you see Gabriella?"

The young girl stopped, as if taking time to ponder the question and let it soak in. She raised her pinky to her cheek, poking at the dimple she knew would appear if she smiled. She made a humming noise that sounded as if she were a bird.

"Nope." she answered.

He rolled over, stood up, and knocked on the door with enough strength to pound the wooden frame in.

"C'mon, Gabriella!" he shouted, "Let me in, dammit."

He knew if she was listening, or actually in the room, she would have answered prominently with, 'No, Bolton, let _me _in.' But when no smart remark came back to him, he leaned his head against the door frame and clicked his tongue against his cheek.

"She's not in there, honey." Lena's voice carried from somewhere downstairs. "And your car's not in the driveway…" She left it as if it were a cliffhanger on one of her favorite television shows. He could almost hear the dramatic music playing in the background.

"What?" he yelled, hanging himself over the staircase banister.

"Well, dumbass, when you tell a girl she's just another girl who let you in her pants, she usually doesn't take it so well." Jamie chimed in, peering her head from around the corner in her bedroom.

"No one asked you, Jamie. Stay out of this." Troy growled, running into this bedroom to grab his coat. He bolted down the stairs, and out the front door. No excuse or explanation was needed when he slammed the door behind him. Both Lena and Jamie knew he was going to look for Gabriella. They also doubted his luck of finding her.

She had been driving for almost an hour, the gas tank was now only a quarter full, and she had absolutely no clue where she was. The road had been straight through, until now. She had reached a four-way turn and she hadn't the slightest idea which of the four was her turn.

At this point, she would've turned off the car, to preserve gas, and focus. But, fearing that she wouldn't be able to re-wire the car once more, she sat; waiting patiently for luck to overcast her. And then, she gave in. It wouldn't matter what way she turned, as long as she got as far away from Troy Bolton as possible.

She smashed the gas pedal and reared to the right, spinning the car down a road called "Pine Apple."

"Fan-fricken-tastic. I'm God knows where, on 'Pine Apple' road, and I need gas. This is great. Really, really, great."

She turned and turned and turned; letting her hands guide her. The roads seemed to be getting wider and the scenery became less snowy. She flipped on the radio, hoping to let the music take her mind off of… _everything_.

He jumped into his sister's car and slammed out of the driveway. He knew his way through Crescent Alvolent like he knew his way through a basketball court. Only problem was, Gabriella didn't.

She had no idea how to get back to his mother's house or how to get back to Albuquerque, let alone New Mexico. If he wasn't so shut out and complex, then maybe none of this would have ever happened.

But didn't she understand that he needed time? He needed time to grow up; to get into the feel of things.

He'd never had a real girlfriend, at least not one that he cared about. Sure there had been girls, of course there had been girls; just not like her.

He liked Gabriella, yes, he definitely liked Gabriella. And as he slid down the snow-covered roads of his hometown, he realized there was nothing he could do about it. He knew what concealed feelings could do to you; after all he was a walking example.

Maybe he could give it a shot; a trail run.

The car slid to a stop, slowing at the stop sign.

No, it would not be a "trial run." He wouldn't hurt her because it would end up hurting both of them far too much.

Gabriella's eyes scanned the clock, realizing another hour had flown by. She found her way onto the highway, by some miracle. But the gas was running lower and lower, and she was hours away from home.

Home. Some home. She sighed, reading the road signs closely. A deep, inset breath she hadn't known to hold slipped through her parted lips.

"Welcome to New Mexico." She read aloud, smiling. Finally, there was good news.

He had no idea where she would go, and he was pretty sure she had no idea where she would go. His heart pounded in his chest as sweat dispersed on his forehead. It was barely thirty degrees outside and he was sweating.

He pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. How could one girl, one simple, lonely girl, cause him so much stress? How could one single person turn his life upside down? He had done the one thing he should've never, and that was let her get to him. It was crazy to think that one individual could break him in half and twist his heart into two.

Her chest rumbled and her stomach knotted as she drove into an overpass. Another hour or so and she'd be even closer to home. Only problem was, would the car last another hour? Maybe looking for a gas station would be a better idea.

The car sped through an excavated tunnel where she was albeit tempted to blow the horn. She smiled, if Troy had been beside her, she would have, no questions asked.

Oh, Troy. Sure he might not have meant it, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to tear her apart. It was simply the fact that he had said it, whether he meant it or not. It was too late now. Much too late. And now, while he sat in his cozy home with his adorable family, she was heading back to Albuquerque where she had nothing but leftover take-out and a big, empty house.

As soon as she stepped into the door, she'd call her mother immediately and demand to be moved to another state, far, far from New Mexico. She had never asked Veronica for much, ever. And deep down, she had never intended on asking her for anything, _ever_. But this was an exception, and she needed to get out of here, no matter what the costs were.

She was done with New Mexico, and she would do anything to get that point across.

Her eyes cast to the left, where there was nothing but more roads, though as she tilted her head to the left, she was greeted with a familiar, oddly comforting setting.

The sun was peaking just above the canyon, while the glorious ever-so beautiful Rio Grande River ran by. Finally, some closure. She knew exactly where she was. White Rock.

The corners of her mouth turned up, cheerfully, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was the strangest thing, how she could find happiness in a place that was Troy's. The steering wheel seemed to guide her hands into the side pasture, mindlessly. Her seat belt unbuckled itself from around her, and her hand reached for the door.

By the time reality struck her, it was too late. The car was out of gas and the engine wouldn't start. But being stranded in a quite foreign place didn't even bother her in the least bit.

How happiness could come from a place that meant so little to her was astounding. Sweeping her legs off the edge, her back met the ground, voluntarily. The weather was warmer. The air was clearer. And her head felt so much lighter. Thinking clearly was easier here, she decided. There wasn't a question as to why Troy came up here.

It was so relaxing and calm. The feeling she got was amazing. And that was saying something coming from a girl lying in the dirt on the side of a giant cliff. It was like being free, and new; like she could get a new start here.

Maybe this was what life was supposed to feel like; she thought as a breeze blew by, blowing her hair in a whirl. Sensational. That's what it was, sensational. It rolled off the tongue and made her shoulders loosen. So sensational.

The sound of a car skidding next to hers (or Troy's rather) was what brought her out of sensational dreamland. A door slammed and footsteps crushed the rocks beneath her. Her eyes were closed, and knowing who it was, she didn't bother to sit up. Or even flinch for that matter.

He had thought about saying something. The whole drive where ever the hell he was going, he had tried to come up with something to say. An explanation, atonement to what he had done. But no matter what he said, there would be nothing that would patch the holes that he tore. They both knew it.

His breathing was slow, his heart rated calmed. White Rock really was something.

Slowly, he approached her, lying there on the ground. Greenery and gorgeous colors of the Earth surrounded her form. The words he had planned, the manipulative speech, drifted off with the breeze that swept his hair into the air.

He lay down next to her, his body only inches apart from her own. Excuses didn't matter, right then and there was all that counted. As his hand crept towards hers, the silence was broken.

"Don't think that just because you chase after me and hold my hand that I will immediately forgive you." He silently nodded, intertwining their fingers together like a puzzle piece. They fit. "This isn't a movie, and you are going to have to work your ass off to fix this."

"I know and I'm sorry." It was said so simply, so purely, that she finally opened her eyes. Her head tilted towards his face and she was met with his closed eyes. She smiled.

Silence sifted through the air, another cool breeze creeping through their clothes. It was cool outside, but flames were burning on the dirty ground.

"Did you mean it?" she asked, after minutes of purity.

There wasn't an answer for quite some time, leaving her to believe that he had meant it. Insecurities ran down her arms, goose bumps appearing instantly. He took a deep breath, squeezed her hand, and turned his head to face her.

"Gabriella," Her named coated his tongue like a warm piece of chocolate. As it roamed into the air, it was a melody to her ears. "At first… at first, I did mean it." The words crushed her like a boulder falling from the sky. Her own Cloud 9 had just nose-dived into the Rio Grande River. "But now, laying here on the ground next to a river, while millions of bugs are probably biting the hell out of me, I realize that I was wrong. So wrong, I feel like nothing can ever be right again. It's like failing a math exam; I want the chance to retake it, to get an A."

Her mouth hung agape and she wondered if he meant it. No, it was surely too good to be true, too deep for the cold Troy Bolton.

"I'm not an exam, Troy. You can't just retake me 'til all of the answers are correct and you get a hundred percent. I'm a real, living, breathing person, and it just won't work. Not with you, not with _us_."

"I know you aren't, and I know you're a person, with feelings too. But I _want_ this to work, Montez." His last words were stated so easily she believed it.

"…So do I."

"But you're going to have to give me time," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "I mean, if you give me a chance." His cocky tone and foolish smile broke through their romantic moment and she punched him in the arm.

"Troy!" she yelped, giggling. He smiled the most beautiful, original, real smile she had ever seen. His cheeks turned up, and a dimple appeared on the corner of his right lip. A chuckle cascaded through her parted lips and she laughed, humorously.

"What?" he questioned.

She didn't answer at first, only met his lips with her own in a sweet kiss that brought stars to her eyes. Happiness had never come so strangely. And for her, happiness hadn't come at all.

"You have a dimple." It was such a simple statement but it meant the world to her.

He brushed a stray hair away from her eyes, letting go of her hand. His legs rose, bringing his body along with them. Smoothly, with the sternness of a machine, he brushed the dirt off of his back. Her eyes met his own, peering up from below him. He smirked and reached for her hand, pulling her up easily.

"Come on. Let's get back, prove to my sister that I'm not a _complete_ screw up." He grinned, jokingly as he led her to the car.

His arm wound his way around her shoulder, giving her the confidence to wrap her own below his rib cage. She squeezed him closer to her, looking up at his defined features. She might have been getting herself into a bad situation too fast and forgiving him so easily might come to haunt her in the future, but the consequences would have to be dealt with later. For once, she wasn't going to let analysis and thorough thinking get in the way.

This was spontaneous, this was new, but most importantly – this was love.

"Hey, Montez?" She arched her eyebrows, he finished, "Where'd you learn to hot wire a car?"

She smirked, playfully, answering cockily, "We all have out secrets."

He laughed, a melodious laugh that rung through the air. This was definitely a good thing. Consequences or not; she'd deal with that later.

He might have needed time, to change, collect himself, whatever. But she would wait and she would be there for him through whatever it was. His good moods and his bad moods, she'd stick through it all.

After all, unmasking the affection would take time, right?

_fin  
vienen otra vez  
merci._


End file.
